


Eden, My Deadly

by The_Jester_Erebus10



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-13
Updated: 2014-07-13
Packaged: 2018-02-08 15:48:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 37,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1946961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Jester_Erebus10/pseuds/The_Jester_Erebus10
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Previously titled Me, Lolita. I have freshly edited chapters on Fanfiction.net, and will get around to revising/replacing old content with the new (and much better) installments on here as well. A new installment will be posted in a few weeks, yay!</p><p>A forbidden lust that evolves into a heartbreaking love. Severus and Hermione must overcome the odds as the War wages on, and life at Hogwarts will never be the same.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Eden, My Deadly

**Author's Note:**

> Snape notices Hermione's beauty at the Yule Ball in her 4th year, and the actual story starts during 6th year. The actual heavy smut doesn't happen until Hermione is (17, much thanks goes out to a reviewer on Fanfiction.net for pointing it out and reminding me that Hermione was actually 17 during her 6th year at Hogwarts, as she is the oldest of the trio) meaning that SHE IS OF AGE in the Wizarding community when their relationship actually starts. If you don't approve of the pairing, teacher/student dynamics, or age difference and are uncomfortable with explicit content concerning the pairing of Severus Snape and Hermione Granger, please, do not proceed any further. If you are ship trash like me, enjoy my humble offering of Snermione love. 
> 
> This quote's for you, Dad. I love you  
> "If Prometheus was worthy of the wrath of heaven for kindling the first fire upon earth, how ought all the gods honor the men who make it their professional business to put it out?"  
> ~John Godfrey Saxe
> 
> PREVIOUSLY TITLED ME, LOLITA. FIRST POSTED ON FANFICTION.NET ON 09/19/10

/  
Nymphetine  
/

Severus watched the girl silently as she danced with that blundering oaf, Krum, and he was mesmerized by her grace. Such grace and elegance, for one so young as her.

She was not the most stunning girl he had ever seen, but yet she had captivated him, she was like a winter rose…if he tried to pick her from the garden, her thorns would pierce him and make him bleed.

He didn't care. He had gone through so much pain in his life, what was a little bit more? Pain was a reminder of his many sins, sins that he had yet to repent for.

Pain was proof that he could still feel.

A flash of emerald eyes and fiery red hair glimmered in the back of his mind, but for some reason, it didn't bother him. He did not feel guilty for feeling this way—about a student, nonetheless! There was something wrong with him. For Merlin's sake, he was old enough to be her father.

Yet he couldn't take his eyes off of her, and she was oblivious, so innocent, so young…

And he thought this of her before, hadn't he? Before, when he saw her in class so many times with those two insufferable morons, laughing and showing the warmth of her smile, to the two of them, who were unworthy to see it, because they could not appreciate the simple beauty of the curve of her lips, and the way that her eyes crinkled up and sparkled-

Albus laid a hand on his shoulder. "Something on your mind, my friend?" he asked, his eyes twinkling insufferably.

"Karkaroff intends to flee if the Mark burns," Severus answered, not wanting to give the old coot any hint of what was really on his mind.

"And do you intend to join him?"

After a slight pause, Severus replied, "No. I am not such a coward."

"No, you are a brave man, Severus Snape. Indeed, I sometimes think that the Sorting Hat sorts too soon…"

And with that, Dumbledore wandered off, no doubt in search for his beloved lemon drops.

Severus took a sip of Fire Whiskey—it was a Christmas miracle that Dumbledore allowed the staff to drink on such a night, with the students frolicking about, doing Merlin knows what—relishing the path that burned down his throat.

He chanced another glance at the girl—his eyes narrowed as he saw her arguing with Weasley and the ever obnoxious Potter boy. The light hit her face just so, and he could see the tear tracks shining on her face.

Anger filled him, and he wanted to do so many things in that moment…wanted to hurt them, for making a young girl cry like that, especially her, in all her innocent splendor. She was so much like a girl he knew some time ago, a girl he loved...a girl who died for all the wrong reasons.

He turned and walked out of the Great Hall, heading down towards the dungeons. Maybe sleep would take him away from all of this insanity, and all of these tumultuous feelings.

/

Hermione furiously wiped the tears that streamed down her cheeks. Men were idiots. No, not men, they were children. Boys.

A real man would never treat a girl like they had, she was sure of it. Krum, he was a real man.

As she hurried along, stumbling over her own two feet as she rushed towards the Gryffindor common room, she did not anticipate running into anyone. Surely everyone was in the Great Hall, and all of the younger students were in bed!

She ran headlong into a very solid figure, and she looked up in shame to see who she had bumped into.

Professor Snape stood there, but strangely enough, he did not meet her gaze. He was looking elsewhere, almost as if he were avoiding…something.

After a second he looked down on her, and something soft shone from his eyes for an instant—just a second, and then they were hard and cold once more.

"Watch where you are going, Miss Granger," he snarled, as his eyes roamed her face.

Hermione, still distraught from the goings-on of that night, sniffled in response, much to her dismay.

Silence echoed between them for what seemed like the longest time, until Snape's voice penetrated it.

"What's wrong?"

What's wrong. Why should he, would he care? But still, Hermione felt compelled to answer him, to tell someone, anyone, what was wrong.

"They—Ron and Harry—they don't understand. I'm not…f-fraternizing with the enemy," and to her horror, tears began to trickle down her face again.

"Your friends, Miss Granger, are idiots. They don't understand, because their small minds refuse to let them understand. They are jealous." He cleared his throat. "You are…very pretty."

Hermione looked up at Snape, blinking furiously as the candlelight reflected in her tear filled eyes, capturing the brilliance and holding it in so all she could see was fire.

She could feel it too, as it burned her skin and all her insides to ash. She stared at her teacher in shock. What was there to believe now, when the one man who she thought disliked her most, thought she was…

Pretty.

She smiled, and she could feel him staring at her as she looked down again.

"Really?" she whispered, and she wasn't sure that he heard her, but as she glanced back up at him, his statuesque form that was carved from ice seemed to melt a little.

"If you are not going back to the Ball, Miss Granger, then I shall escort you back up to your dormitory." He turned abruptly and his cloak swirled around him, brushing up against her. She hadn't realized how close they were.

As they walked in silence up to the Gryffindor common room, Hermione's mind was racing and her heart was full of conflicting emotions.

She had always thought that Professor Snape was, well, attractive, albeit in an unconventional way. It wasn't so much as his...unkempt appearance, as it was his intelligence and wit. The power that he exuded was intoxicating. He was much more mature and probably more experienced than boys her age…she thought of Krum, and his fumbling hands underneath the Quidditch bleachers, and blushed. Krum was older as well, but he lacked finesse.

But Snape was still the sour, greasy-haired, sarcastic, mean man he always was. It was wrong of her to think of him in any other way than he a teacher, and she, his student.

Suddenly they stopped walking, and Hermione looked up at Snape's tall form inquisitively.

"Miss Granger, do you intend to sleep outside of your dormitory tonight?" Snape bit the words out, and the edges were frosted with ice.

Hermione shook her head, feeling shame at her own thoughts. If only he knew what she was thinking now, he would be disgusted., no matter if he said she was pretty.

"I'm sorry sir," she said, and she started to face the Fat Lady when a feather-light touch to her hand stopped her.

Hermione looked back in shock at her professor, who was staring back down at her intently.

"I meant what I said," he murmured, and his silky voice threaded with the veins that pulsed hot blood underneath her flesh. She saw his eyes widen, as if he had surprised himself by touching her hand, and he let go of her, his lips parted slightly over yellow, crooked teeth.

Hermione could feel herself start to shake slightly, the shock of what was happening, and the revelation that Professor Snape thought she was attractive overwhelming her.

"Goodnight, P—professor," she stammered, her high pitched voice cracking slightly.

"Goodnight, Granger." He turned, and his cloak billowed behind him majestically as he strode down the corridor.

"Oh my," Hermione said to herself, and the Fat Lady regarded her with sly interest, and Hermione knew that she was watching the whole time. "Galloping gargoyles," Hermione whispered, as the tears threatened to fall again. Guilt rose up inside of her, and she swallowed the lump that formed in her throat. The Fat Lady let her pass, and as Hermione went through the door, she saw that the common room was completely empty from students. The fireplace, which should have felt pleasant on such a chilly night, made her uncomfortable as the heat from the flames prickled her already warm body.

She retreated to her room and undressed, slipping out of her dress and taking out her earrings, all the while thinking of those dark, dark eyes that regarded her with strange some emotion that she was too young and too innocent to understand.

/

Severus prided himself on his self control.

He had never consorted with a student, or even with a faculty member; he had not given into such petty desires before.

So why was it now that he felt such passion for one individual? She was intelligent beyond her years, and kind, and brave, and he wished that he could tell her so.

And she was here.

Here, at Grimmauld Place.

There were so many things he wanted to say to her, to do to her, and it was wrong, he knew it. But nothing would happen, he had an iron will, and he trusted himself around her.

At least, that was what he told himself before, when she wasn't in the room with him. Alone.

"Professor Snape," she muttered, while flipping through what seemed to be a textbook, "Now that we are alone, do you think you can answer a question for me?"

"It depends on the question asked," he stated smoothly, and she giggled a little, the soft, girlish sound awakening something primal deep within him. A small smile graced her pink lips, and he shifted uncomfortably in his chair as desire blossomed from the pit of his gut and rose up further until it encompassed his whole being.

Damn her.

Damn her.

"Why do you always pick on Harry and Ron in class? Even more so than Neville, and Neville is atrocious at Potions," she said in an calm voice, turning over the next page and reading it.

Severus glared at her. "They are idiots. Surely you know this, what with hanging around them all the time, and you being as intelligent as you are."

"No worse than Neville, though," Hermione answered, and was it wrong, Severus thought, to get a small thrill of triumph from the fact that she did not deny that those two boys were dunderheads?

"HERMIONE! Where are you—oh, there you are. We're going outside to fly, want to join?"

Granger looked up at the youngest boy Weasley with disinterest. "Oh Ron, I'm a little busy right now, and you know I hate broomsticks."

Weasley laughed, and it was a horrible, raucous sound. "You seemed to like them well enough when Krum was in town."

Hermione's eyes narrowed, and Severus could see the anger bubble just beneath the surface. Ron left, and it was just Severus and Hermione again.

"Why are you friends with him, if he makes you feel that way?" Severus asked, and Hermione turned on him.

"Do you even know the meaning of the word friend? Or have you even had any?" she snapped cruelly, until her words caught up with her and she seemed to have realized what she had said. Her little pink lips formed an "o" and she covered her mouth with one hand.

The words didn't hurt him. They were like barbed arrows bouncing off his armor. Severus scowled at her, and she backtracked immediately.

"I'm sorry, I didn't-"

"Miss Granger, if we were at Hogwarts right now, I would have landed you in detention so fast that you wouldn't know what was happening."

"Oh? Detention? And what would you have me do?" Her brown eyes glittered slightly, and Severus suddenly wondered if she maybe wasn't as innocent as he had thought.

He smirked, and crossed his arms over his chest.

What would I have you do, hmm? I would probably put that little insolent mouth of yours to good use, and then, I would soon find out if your screams are as delightful as your laughter.

"You would have cut up flobberworms for me, and then I would have you crush scarab beetles for the fourth year class."

Severus was quick to catch the disappointment that shadowed her chocolate eyes for only an instant.

"Oh, I see. And nothing else? I can assure you, I may not know everything about Potions, but I am a very fast learner."

Oh, she was quite the little tease.

"Well, I am the teacher, so I suppose a few lessons in discipline are in order…"

A blush crept over her little impish face, and desire gripped him once again as he was reminded of her youth.

So wrong. He was wrong but god how he wanted to take her, and possess her innocence, her passion, her fire, her everything…

He stared into her eyes, and, blushing, she lowered her gaze and turned away.

He wished he could tell her how he felt, how he truly felt, instead of hiding behind this cold façade. He wanted to show her how full of passion he was, passion for her, all for her, but she was so young, only just 16.

Takehertakehertakeher

The mantra repeated itself over and over again in his mind, and he couldn't stop watching her every move—he noticed all the little things, like how when she breathed, her breasts would rise and fall, the creamy white globes peaking out from her shirt; she had grown quite a bit from last year, he noted.

He wondered what they would look like with nothing covering them, nipples pebbled from the cool wind blowing in from the open window, and she would shiver from the chill, but he would cover her naked body with his own, and taste each rosy peak and see how sweet her skin was…

He wanted her, wanted her more than anything he could ever remember wanting…

Merlin, he was going to hell for lusting after one so youthful and innocent.

/

Hermione dipped her quill in her ink well, twirling it around her fingers absentmindedly. It wasn't like her to lose her train of thought, especially in class, but she felt restless and agitated lately.

"Now, if you could turn your pages to page 479—yes, Mr. Malfoy?"

"Sir, will we be studying how to brew Amortentia soon?" Draco's question was interrupted by a series of obnoxious giggles, and his own mirth was evident in the tone of his voice.

Snape looked unimpressed, though, Hermione surmised, since Malfoy was Snape's favored student, he would give him the benefit of the doubt.

"It is not on the curriculum for this quarter, no. However, we may-"

The sound of that velvety soft voice, so melodic and sensual, started to lull Hermione to sleep. It wasn't that he was droning on in a monotone voice—quite the opposite, actually. Each syllable she heard was carefully pronounced with so many different emotions, and it fascinated her. It was like a song, each word, each sentence, everything that came from his throat.

"Miss Granger."

Hermione slowly lifted her nose out of her book and met Professor Snape's black, bottomless eyes, eyes that seemed to be like black holes, sucking up everything and not giving any warmth back. But there was such depth to them, and it intrigued her.

"Sir?" she stammered, her heart pounding loudly in her chest, the sound resounding in her ears. Surely he could hear it…hear the steady staccato beating over and over and over again…

"Miss Granger," he whispered again, but this time, the words tickled the sensitive shell of her ear, and her skin prickled with more electricity than a thunderstorm. She could feel his rather prodigious nose rub up against her skull.

She let herself fall back into his embrace, and oh, how warm it was, not icy cold like she half expected it to be.

Dry lips followed by an obscenely wet tongue worshiped her neck and throat, and she didn't know what to think—what was this? How inappropriate, how utterly wrong and—sensual, and good…

Somehow they ended up on the table, knocking over her ink well and staining her wool skirt, but she didn't care. Their limbs intertwined as if they were practiced lovers, and she bit back a cry as his hands roamed farther down her body, inching ever so slowly down the contours of her sweaty frame. She wanted to scream with frustration, to tell him to move faster, and she would do anything, anything for him if he complied…

"Mr. Potter!"

Hermione jolted next to Harry, snapping herself from her reverie.

Harry gazed up at Snape, who in turn stared back at him relentlessly.

"What?" he demanded sullenly.

"Now now, Potter, there is no need to address me in such a rude manner. Ten points from Gryffindor. Granger!"

Hermione's eyes widened as she stared into Snape's deep dark eyes, and she saw something flash in them, something that made her uneasy yet excited at the same time.

"See me after class, it is obvious that your foolish Gryffindor head is in the clouds. I will not tolerate such attitude in my class."

"Yes, sir," she answered, demurely dropping her gaze so that she wouldn't have to look into his eyes anymore.

She could still feel his gaze upon her long after she had looked away.

/

Hermione stood before him, alone in the classroom, and her breath faltered as he came closer to her.

"So, Miss Granger. You think that because your intelligence far accedes those of your fellow classmates, you don't have to pay attention in Defense Against the Dark Arts class? You think, because you have…experience, you don't have to listen?"

Her heart beat faster underneath her fragile chest, and she feared her chest would shatter.

"I have seen such horrors that young, innocent eyes such as yours can never even dream of seeing…nor would you want to. I have…done things that would shock you. I've felt things that would make you never want to come near me again. Do you still think you're better, or more experienced, still?"

Closer, coming closer and closer still…

"Not everything can be learned from a book, Miss Granger," Snape murmured, and she felt fingers underneath her chin, raising her head up to look him in the eyes.

Her own eyes widened when she saw the desperation in his, he schooled his features quickly to hide it, but it was too late.

"Professor?" Hermione whispered, and Severus backed away suddenly.

"Go to your Common Room," he said harshly. "Leave me."

Hermione bit her lip, and Severus saw a small bead of blood rise from the pink flesh. Her flushed face, her scent, everything about her mocked him in that moment.

He thought to himself, before he strode towards her, that perhaps Dumbledore was right. Maybe he was Sorted into the wrong house.

And then he kissed her.

Severus' blood turned to fire in his veins, and the evidence of his desire rose tumescent beneath his robes. He pressed into her slightly, abandoning his rigid self control, and he could feel her wriggle against him in shock.

Ah, but this was delicious, the way she was moving against him, the way she sounded, as he roughly turned her head to the side to nip at her throat...drawing gasps and moans from his student as he slid his hands lower.

/

Hermione felt a hand on her shoulder, slipping down to cup her breast; it fit in the palm of his large, rough hand and she gasped as his thumb rubbed over her nipple.

She hadn't expected anything like this-this raw, animalistic pleasure, so mindless, all consuming. She clutched at his larger frame to keep herself from falling over. This was wrong, this was her teacher, but she didn't care, not now. This more forceful and passionate than anything she could have imagined.

Snape bent down to take the nipple in his mouth, his mouth was so hot, so wet, and his tongue flicked over the peak just so…he pulled himself off of her, and she let out a tiny whimper.

"God, how I've wanted you," he growled, as he pushed her onto the nearby table and climbed on top of her, caging her underneath his body.

She could feel his hardness, hot and insistent against her thigh, but he didn't seem to pay it any mind. He seemed content suckling at the tender flesh of her throat, humming and purring against her as she writhed and moaned underneath him.

"Ah, ah ah," he scolded, as she reached down in an attempt to stroke him to completion. "There will be enough time for that. Just relax, Miss Gr—Hermione, I know what you want."

"How?" she asked rather stupidly, and he chuckled against her collarbone.

"I can tell by your reactions what you truly want," Snape murmured, his hand gliding down underneath the waistband of her panties to rub her slowly. She cried out in frustration, and he smirked, lifting his hand to his mouth.

She watched through a haze of desire as his tongue reached out to taste the wetness that dripped from his fingers, and he closed his eyes for a moment before slipping a finger between his lips and sucking at it.

"Mmm." He licked his lips, and bent down over her prone body again, trailing with his lips down her torso until he reached her panties. "These have to go," he muttered, and with one motion of his hand, he ripped the underwear off of her body and went in for the feast.

Hermione forgot, in that instant, how to speak, or how to make any noises at all other than the inarticulate sounds that were being pulled from her throat. Snape seemed intent on devouring her whole, body, heart, soul, and mind, and if this was death, well, then, what would be a better fate than this? She shuddered and mewled as he worshiped her flesh, and she reached down to run her fingers through his greasy hair. Pleasure mounted up inside of her, threatening to erupt like a volcano as his tongue laved her over and over again, as he moaned in turn against her damp skin.

He lifted his head up, his lips glistening with her juices, to meet her gaze.

Hermione had never seen desire in a man's eyes, not directed towards her, at least. But this unbridled passion that she saw in his dark eyes, dark as the starless night sky, she was sure was reflected in her own brown orbs.

And he was, was a man, and that was what she wanted, not some childish, immature caricature of a man, like Ron, or Harry, or even Cormac and Krum…

"Oh," she said softly, and Snape looked down on her, running a hand down her newly acquired curves. She prayed to whatever gods were in the heavens that he would have mercy on her, and quench the thirst that seemed to plague her for so long…but once she had a taste, would she only want more? Hermione didn't care, as long as he—

"You have to tell me exactly what you want," he whispered, and she sobbed against him.

"Please."

/

Please.

That sweet word, murmured in that sweet voice, uttered by those sweet lips…how could he resist?

She wanted it, wanted him. It astounded him, but he wasn't going to question. Not yet at least. This innocent, young thing longed for him, and his touch.

"Have you ever done this before?" he asked, though he had a sneaky suspicion that he already knew the answer.

"No, not this far," she said, and her face flushed instantly. "I'm sorry—"

"Merlin, don't be sorry," he responded, and he couldn't believe that she had waited for this moment, with him. She was going to give him something precious, and he wouldn't take it lightly. "I'll go slow," he promised, and she stared up at him with wide eyes.

"Okay," she whispered. "I-I think-I think I'm ready."

"I know you are," he breathed into her ear; as he dragged his fingers through her wetness again, this time, penetrating her slowly—slow, gentle, don't be too rough with her—with one finger.

She gasped, but whether it was in pain or pleasure, he couldn't tell.

After several minutes of preparation, he finally deemed her prepared, as she moaned in frustration against his robed shoulder.

/

She watched with hooded eyes as he sprung out, hard and ready, and she felt elated to know that she did this to him.

Merlin, how was all that going to fit inside of her? She reached out and touched the ruddy, sticky head, and it jerked a little at her feather-light touch. He smiled toothily down at her, and it was obvious that he was not used to smiling, yet she could tell it was genuine.

He placed his erection at her entrance, and slowly began to push in. She winced as pain lanced through her body. He seemed to sense her discomfort, and wrapped his arms around her. "Shhh, it's alright. You want this," he said, and it almost was as if he was convincing himself that this was happening, that they were really together like this.

"Yessss, I want it," she hissed through her teeth, as he broke through her hymen. He paused, waiting for her to become accustomed to his intrusion, before sliding in further, slowly-

The pain was thick and burning, but it subsided a bit as she tried to relax. She could feel herself molding around him, as if they were created to do just this, this sinful act. She clutched at his back, scrabbling with short nails. "Yes-yeah-it's...okay..."

She wasn't prepared for him as he slowly began to move in and out with shallow thrusts.

She let out a little cry, but the initial pain was starting to slowly subside and was replaced by an insistent throb of pleasure that coursed through her body.

/

Severus willed himself not to hurt her, not to take her too hard, but it was all so overwhelming, and after a little while he began pushing into her at a more steady pace.

"…faster," she muttered, and he almost didn't hear her.

He complied, pounding in and out at a furious pace that surprised even him. It had been so many years since he had had a woman underneath him like this, and he was shocked at his stamina.

Woman…was she a woman, yet? She was so young, and fragile, and he looked down upon her again, at her heaving breasts, her flushed face and shining eyes, and decided that yes, she was.

She's a girl, you're fucking a child, Severus, and don't you feel any remorse? Taking her innocence, when she is too young to know what she wants—

And he should have felt more remorse than what he did, he knew that. But at that moment he could only feel the pleasure rising inside of him, threatening to spill over. As they rocked together, he gazed down at her ruddy face, stained such a pretty pink. He hit deeper inside, and she winced a bit. He felt a sharp twinge of guilt twist like a knife in his gut. He slid his hand down between their joined bodies, feeling her wetness, finding the little swollen, slippery button at the apex of her thighs as he thrust. She-oh yes, her whole body jolted at that. Ah, that's what she liked, then. He circled his finger around her little pearl, slowly at first, but as he could feel his orgasm had almost reached it's peak, he tweaked at it gently, and rubbed faster faster faster ohohoh-

She let out a little shriek as she clamped down on him, her whole body seeming to pulse, and that was enough for Severus. He buried himself to the hilt as he exploded inside of her, trembling and shaking the whole while as the pleasure consumed him. For the first time during their encounter, he leaned down to capture her lips in a kiss, their tongues dancing together as he pumped the last of his essence into her willing body. He pulled out of her gently, guilt once again gripping him in its unforgiving claws as he saw blood mixed with other bodily fluids trickle down her small thighs.

I will never tire of this, he thought as she fell to her knees before him, looking up at him with those seemingly innocent eyes.

"We can't," he said reluctantly, and she pouted her lower lip out. He wanted to nibble on that lip.

"No one will find us back here, I put a charm on the door," Hermione answered cheekily. Severus huffed to himself, but didn't stop her as her tiny hands parted his robes, fumbled with the zipper and drew him out of his trousers.

He sighed in relief as her hot mouth engulfed him, and she bobbed up and down his cock, licking and sucking and—

God!

He came in a white-hot flood down her throat, and she pulled back, scrunching her face up at the taste and texture of it, and some of it spurted on her face and in her hair.

That sight was something he wanted in his memory for the rest of his days: Hermione Granger, the sweet, innocent bookwork, looking thoroughly debauched with his come dripping from her face.

She got up to leave, and he grabbed her arm to stop her. "You can't go out there looking like that," he chided, and with a wave of his wand, the mess vanished.

Hermione smiled brightly up at him, and his lips quirked in response.

/

"I want to try something different," Hermione said one day in what was another pretense of a detention.

"What do you want to do?" Snape asked, not looking up from his book.

"Professor, what don't I want to do?" she said with a little giggle, and finally he looked up at her.

"You are an insatiable little creature, aren't you," he murmured as she straddled his lap, feeling his hardness bump against her crotch.

"What I want, I get," she answered, before kissing him fiercely.

He answered her back in kind, their tongues fighting for dominance until finally Hermione succumbed. She fell back onto his desk and he followed her, pressing the contours of his body into her own, but she didn't feel like he was crushing her. No, instead she felt wanted, and owned, and breathlessly she told him /

"I do want you, I always want you," he murmured, grinding against her, making her whimper. "And you are mine. Say it."

Hermione stared into his eyes and she could see that he meant every word he said.

"I want to hear you say it," Severus repeated, reaching down her shirt to pinch a nipple between his fingers. She squirmed against him until she gasped, "Yes."

"Yes what?"

"Yes, I'm yours," she answered, and he rewarded her with a kiss.

"And how do you want to prove to me that you are mine?"

Hermione blushed a pretty shade of pink.

"You can do whatever you want to me, you know," she said. Severus' heart skipped in his chest.

"Even this?"

She gasped as his hands slipped lower, but not in her wetness; instead, his long, bony fingers circled around her other entrance.

"Oh," she sighed, and she stretched out on his desk as if she were a feast, preparing herself for him to devour her.

And how he wanted to devour her…

He took the tie from her neck and bound her hands above her head, and she struggled a little as he did so.

"I want to touch you," she said, a slight whine in her voice, and he silenced her with a smack on her pert little bottom.

"You will speak only when I say you can," he growled, and Hermione's eyes widened, but he could tell that she was excited nonetheless.

"Yes, sir," she whispered meekly, but a smile played upon her soft pink lips.

He tapped his wand against her bottom, and murmured a spell and was instantly rewarded with a moan as she was slicked up and prepared for him.

He thrust into her ever so slowly, and it took all of his will and self control to not pound away at her like some ridiculous teenager. Merlin, it was tight, so, so tight, and he could feel her surrounding him, could smell her, and taste her upon his lips, and she was all around—

/

No matter what he did, or what he was doing, she was never far from his thoughts.

He still couldn't believe that someone like her would want someone as mean tempered as he, but she did, and it was one mystery that he would never be able to solve.

It amazed him still what she was willing to do to be with him, that she was willing to sneak around behind Albus and Minerva's backs at night to spend even a little bit of time with him, in his chambers, sometimes just talking and reading together. Sometimes, his raw, instinctive side compelled him to take her as soon as she walked through the door.

He wouldn't give her his password to his private chambers, and he knew that it hurt her feelings that he did not trust her enough to, but that wasn't the case at all. He had spent his entire childhood trusting people who ended up letting him down in the end, so it was better to not trust anyone at all, and Hermione was no exception.

They sat in bed together, and he found his fingers playing with the curls that fell down the nape of her neck.

"Ron is dating that idiotic bimbo, Lavender Brown, still," Hermione said contemptuously, and Severus frowned.

"Does that bother you?" he asked, pushing back some of the wisps of hair that fell on her face.

"No," Hermione said, and Severus could tell that she did care, a little. But she turned and looked at him with pure need sculpted into her pretty features, and he could do little to resist her kiss.

/

She never wanted this to end.

She melted into the kiss, first feeling his breath against her lips, then feeling every stroke his tongue made against hers.

She knew that he wanted her, so much, if actions truly spoke louder than words, for he didn't reveal what was on his mind a lot of the time. But she wanted, more than anything, to be loved, preferably by him.

She knew that he was a strong, extremely intelligent and powerful man, yet she also knew the power she had over him was immense. He may not be easily manipulated, but she knew that he cared about her somewhat, because someone like Snape couldn't be with someone he cared nothing about.

/

"Why in the world would you care what those blithering idiots do, or what they think of you?" he snapped, one night when Hermione was complaining about Ron again.

She could hear the possessiveness in his voice, and the jealousy.

"Those idiots are my friends," Hermione snapped, and Snape's eyes narrowed.

"Friends wouldn't treat you like this, Hermione. That Weasley is bad news, he only cares about himself."

"You don't know anything about him!" Hermione said angrily, pushing away from Snape's embrace and pulling her robes over her school clothes. "It's none of your business anyway! Just because you and I are having-sex doesn't make us a couple!"

She hurried out of his chambers, without looking back to see what she was sure was pain and confusion in his dark eyes.

Those eyes haunted her relentlessly that night in her dreams.

/

"What's going on, Hermione?" Harry asked.

Hermione looked up from her morning porridge, doing everything she could to avoid Snape's gaze from the Head Table.

"Nothing is wrong," Hermione mumbled, and Harry raised an eyebrow quizzically.

"I've known you for six years, Hermione; I think I'd know if something was wrong."

"Well, you're a man, and men are stupid, dunderheaded fools!"

"Dunder-what, have you been listening to the Greasy Git lately?" he chuckled, and Hermione turned on him, her eyes full of poison.

"Don't call him that," she hissed, and she immediately regretted her words as she saw Harry's smirk turn into a frown. God, the last thing she needed was for anyone to find out about her and Snape. At least Ron was too wrapped up in his own pathetic life to give a care about what was going on in hers. But Harry—Harry was more insightful than Ron.

A little bit more insightful.

"Why are you defending him?" Harry said, and Hermione shrugged nonchalantly.

"I just—I think you're too hard on him," she answered.

"Too hard? Hermione, you hate him as much as I do! And he hates us! Especially since you're a Muggle Born and he's a—"

Hermione flinched.

"I'm sorry," Harry backtracked, but it was too late, Hermione's eyes welled up with tears, and her voice faltered as she spoke.

"I don't think he'd care, he treats me just the same as he treats all the Gryffindors." For the first time that day she chanced a glance over at the Head Table, at him, but he wasn't looking at her at all.

He was talking with Professor Sinistra, and now it was her turn to feel envy seep into her being. Harry followed her gaze, and looked at her with a question in his /

Sinistra was very pretty, more pretty than she was, she thought. Sinistra was a teacher, and closer to Snape's age.

"I have to go," Hermione mumbled, pushing her plate away from her and rushing from the Great Hall. This time, she didn't feel his gaze on her at all.

She tried to convince herself that she didn't care.

No, she didn't care one bit.

/

She cried herself to sleep that night, missing the warmth of his embrace, the feeling of his breath against her sweat slicked skin.

She missed everything about him.

And it had only been one day since their confrontation.

How was she supposed to live like this? She felt like a part of her was empty without him.

/

Severus was sleeping, or at least trying to. He had taken a Sleeping Draught before going to bed, so he didn't dream of her, and her lightly scented skin, and her sweet taste, and everything else that he would never forget.

The scent of her skin, softly fragrant with some kind of sweet, candy-like cream, mixed with her own natural scent—so intoxicating. Even now, he could imagine he smelled it.

He scowled to himself. His thoughts were so conflicted that he couldn't sleep at all. Damn her.

He hadn't seen her in class all week, and he would be remiss to admit that he missed her.

A soft knock at his chamber door interrupted his reverie.

He had hoped it was her, yet at the same time, he didn't want to see her, didn't want to acknowledge that something went wrong.

That she might have feelings for—

Merlin, even Potter would be better than Weasley.

"What do you—Albus?"

Severus' heart stopped for an instant as he peered into Dumbledore's eyes; they had lost their signature twinkle, and he looked very concerned about something.

"Severus, something is wrong with one of the students. I—frankly, I'm not sure what to do."

"And you think that I'm a good candidate to aid you? Albus, the students hate me."

"I've talked to Miss Granger's friends, they are unsure of what to do as well."

Severus' blood ran cold.

"Hermione?" he whispered, his voice cracking slightly.

"Yes, she's not been attending her classes, not eating, I don't—"

Dumbledore stopped mid-sentence, and looked at Severus.

"It's not often that you refer to a student by their first name, Severus, let alone a Gryffindor."

Severus cursed himself silently for letting her first name slip past his lips.

"I—" and for once, he was at a loss for words.

"Let's go to my office, shall we, Severus?"

Severus nodded silently, and retreated back into his chambers to put his black robes on. Damn, damn, damn it all, Merlin, he was going to be sacked, he was going to Azkaban, he was going to Hell…

"I would like to think that I know you quite well, Severus. But I have a sneaky feeling that there is something you are not telling me. Do you perhaps know why Miss Granger is acting the way she is? It just doesn't seem like her."

Severus put his mental blocks up as he met Dumbledore's eyes, replacing the memories of Hermione with fake ones that he concocted while he was walking to Dumbledore's office: of Severus privately tutoring Hermione, of the two of them playing Wizards Chess, but a flash of one memory—Hermione's smiling face, and her laugh—was at the forefront of his mind.

Dumbledore broke Severus' gaze, and Severus could still hear her melodious laughter echo in his mind and heart.

"Severus…" Dumbledore started, and Severus braced himself for what was sure to come. "Do you love her?"

"Love?" Severus chuckled darkly. "I would hardly call it love. She is a brilliant young witch who has much potential. I…admire her. I just wish she would pick better friends to interact with."

"And you believe you would be a better friend?" Dumbledore asked gently, and Severus bristled.

"I highly doubt that."

"Oh, I don't know, Severus. You have been a good friend to me. After all," and he lifted up his blackened hand as a reminder of what Severus had to do, "you have kept every promise you have made to me."

Severus nodded sharply, and Dumbledore let his hand drop to his desk.

"Now, get some sleep, Severus, you have classes in the morning. I have one more request of you, however."

Severus looked at Dumbledore. "Yes?"

"Talk to Miss Granger, will you? You two seem close, and she has seemed to detach herself everyone else. Maybe she will listen to you."

Severus sighed inwardly. "Alright. Good night."

"Good night, Severus," Dumbledore called after him as he rummaged for his lemon drops, and Severus could feel his gaze upon his back even after he left the office.

/

"Get up."

Hermione groaned in her sleep, covering her head with her pillow. Suddenly the pillow was ripped off of her head, and she snapped out of her dreamless sleep, only to stare into familiar black eyes.

"What—"

"What do you think you're doing?" Snape said, and Hermione scowled.

"None of your business what I'm doing."

"Alright then. What aren't you doing?"

Hermione looked up at him silently.

"You aren't doing your schoolwork, you aren't attending classes, and your grades are suffering. Do you really want to give up all of your dreams, just for one fight?"

"Why do you think I'm upset because of our fight?" Hermione asked, and Severus caught the single tear that dripped down her face with his finger.

"Lovers sometimes fight, Hermione, but they get over it and move on."

"Yes, well, I'm not very experienced in that area, am I? You are the only man I have ever been with."

"Don't you blame this on me," Severus seethed, gripping one of her hands, not too roughly, but none too gently either. "You told me you wanted it."

"I did," Hermione admitted.

"You don't feel that way anymore?" Severus asked, and his tone was dead-pan, yet she could detect a hint of desperation in his voice.

She paused. "I do feel that way. Still."

Severus ran his other hand up her bare thigh. She was still in her nightclothes, and if he had never before seen her naked, it would have left little to the imagination.

"Good. Because I feel the same way," Severus murmured, pushing her back onto the bed, reminiscent of their previous encounters. "I've missed you."

"And I, you," Hermione replied, and she pushed herself back up to look at him. "Sit down," and she patted the space next to her on the bed.

Severus sat down on her bed, and Hermione shoved him down onto it roughly, falling on top of him and kissing him passionately as his arousal made itself known.

"We can't do this here," he gasped as he broke away from her soft lips. "Dumbledore already suspects something is going on between us."

Hermione froze, panic and fear seeping into her brain. She sat up abruptly, and he followed suit.

"Dumbledore knows?"

"I didn't say that," Snape hissed, "but he does know something is going on between us, whether it's sexual or not."

"Oh god," Hermione whimpered, her finger reaching up to her mouth so she could gnaw on her fingernail nervously.

"You have to be very careful," Severus finished, "and if you want, I can teach you Occlumency."

"I know enough," Hermione mumbled around a mouthful of finger, and Severus reached up to gently remove her fingers from her mouth.

"That isn't enough, Hermione. Dumbledore is an exceptional Legilimens. I'm not trying to scare you, but I don't want this—us—to end anytime soon."

"Neither do I, Severus."

That was the first time his first name escaped her lips; it was usually just "sir" or "professor," or Snape, in her mind.

He was Severus.

Her Severus.

His hand clutched hers tighter, and he coaxed her down on the bed; their lips meeting along the way, moving together in perfect harmony.

"Hermione," he murmured, in that silky, sinful voice.

"Severus," she whispered huskily.

Yes, he was her Severus, and she was his Hermione.

Hadn't it always been that way?

/

/  
Love is but a Mortal Sin  
/

Her skin prickled wherever he made contact with her flesh, each and every atom of her being singing to him as he stroked up and down the contours of her body. Her breath was erratic as he leisurely tasted her throat, nipping and biting with crooked teeth; he devoured her like a man who had endured a hundred years of starvation.

Hermione wrapped her arms around Severus' neck, a willing sacrifice to appease his insatiable hunger. She shuddered against his robed shoulder as he trailed his tongue down her neck slowly until he reached the collar of her shirt; a spell, whispered in her ear in that deep, silky voice, and the shirt disappeared as if she had never had it on.

His practiced fingers danced on her stomach and traveled lower, lower still, until he reached the part of her body that filled her with an aching hunger that consumed her entire being.

/

"Ron, must you always chew with your mouth open? It's disgusting."

Ron stared at Hermione open mouthed for a few seconds before shutting it, slowly chewing his scone.

Harry shook his head. "So, what do you think of this new homework the old bat assigned for us, Hermione?"

Hermione took another swallow of butterbeer and cleared her throat before answering. "An essay on the uses of non verbal defensive spells should be fairly simple."  
"Says the genius," Ron muttered. "Blimey, I really can't stand him."

Ron was entitled to his own opinion about Severus, but Hermione felt a chill sweep through her body all the same.

"Yeah mate, I know what you mean."

Hermione stood up. "I'm going to use the loo," she announced, before purposely scampering away from them and towards the restroom.

Before she reached the handle of the door, something grabbed her and pulled her aside, and a hand covered her mouth so that she couldn't scream. She was about to bite down on the hand that covered her mouth before breath gently caressed the side of her face, breath with a hint of mint leaves and chamomile tea.

"Shhh," a familiar voice whispered, and Hermione relaxed into his arms.

"What are you doing here, Professor?" Hermione whispered back, and gasped as his other hand slipped from her upper arm to trail down her spine with nimble fingers until it reached her bottom.

"I'm feeling a bit adventurous today, I suppose," Snape murmured before squeezing her bottom lightly. "It's not often that I venture out to Hogsmeade, and look what I caught, such a tender little morsel…"

Hermione let out a long sigh as his hot, wet mouth left kisses on the side of her neck; he was clean shaven as always but she could still feel the slight scratch of stubble rasp against her sensitive skin.

"Will you let me have you? Right here? Right now?" His velveteen voice caressed her nerve endings and electricity thrummed through her body.

"We—I—" her words were lost in her throat as he slid his hand further down, into her underwear to sensuously rub the bare, moist skin there. Suddenly he dropped to the floor, and she gaped at the sight of her stoic professor on his knees before her, his robes pooled around him as he licked her, oh god oh god she couldn't keep quiet, her moans were increasing in volume until finally, the crescendo, a scream was ripped from her throat as he suckled slowly through her release—

"Hermione!"

Hermione's head snapped up from her butterbeer.

"What's going on with you lately? It's not like you to have your head up in the clouds like Lovegood," Ron chuckled as he took a swig of his own drink.

"I—I don't know," Hermione stammered; the daydream had been so vivid that it had seemed real. She could still feel Severus' breath on the side of her flushed face, hear the erotic whispers that ghosted over the shell of her ear…she shook her head slightly to pull herself out of her reverie and looked up in time to witness Harry and Ron exchange a meaningful glance.

"I, er, I'm going to use the loo," Harry announced, before disappearing into the Three Broomsticks and leaving Hermione alone. With Ron.

"Merry Christmas, Hermione," Ron murmured, suddenly closer to her than she had remembered him being, closer than what she was comfortable with. "I want to give you something…special."

It seemed like he was trying to make his words sound sensual, but his voice was not deep enough, it was too scratchy and rough around the edges, it brushed across her nerve endings in a way that made her uneasy. It was nothing like Severus, whose voice caressed her like silken ribbons, ribbons that threaded through her veins; tying her up and leaving her helpless to his whims and desires.

Before Hermione could respond, she felt lips upon her own, and a tongue tried to force its way into her mouth. Firmly she closed her lips, refusing the slimy muscle to gain entry. She tried to break away from him, but he grasped her head and pressed her harder into his kiss. No, no, this was nothing at all like Severus.

"Stop," she said, but the words were muffled by Ron's mouth. He was not subtle and practiced like Severus; he was too demanding. Severus was demanding, yes, but in a completely different way than Ron. It seemed that Ron was interested in only his own pleasure and satisfaction, and he liked to give nothing back, which reminded Hermione of his immaturity.

Finally Ron broke away, gasping for air like some sort of fish out of water, and Hermione shoved him away from her in disgust.

"Never touch me again," she hissed.

Her disdain must have been evident on her face, because Ron abruptly looked down, and Harry appeared again, glancing back and forth between Ron and Hermione with confusion evident on his face.

"Er—"

"I'm going back to the Gryffindor Common Room," Hermione snapped, sweeping out of the Three Broomsticks in a manner so reminisce of Snape that she found it ironic. Maybe he was rubbing off on her a bit.

She hastily made her way back to Hogwarts without looking back, bumping into a few people along the way. When she finally arrived there, she headed not towards the Dormitory, like she had told Ron and Harry, but to the dungeons instead.

She barged into Snape's office without knocking. He was grading essays at his desk, and the only acknowledgment he gave her was a single raised brow.

"Ron kissed me," she blurted out, before she could stop herself.

Silence.

He set the quill down and looked up at her.

"And?"

"What do you mean?" Hermione frowned.

"And? What did you do? How did you respond?" Snape's composure seemed calm, yet she could see the vein of his temple flicker faster.

"I told him to never touch me again," she said, and he stared down at the paper he was grading, his chest rising and falling steadily.

"Did you give an explanation?" Snape asked. He was looking into her eyes now, and she felt hypnotized by those obsidian depths.

"No. Why should I need to? He needs to show respect for me and my personal space," she retorted. Snape snorted under his breath before getting up to tower before her. She gazed up at his tall form, and smiled reassuringly.

"I feel better now, more comfortable. Here, with you. I can be myself."

"You are yourself anyway, are you not? I never thought you one to put on airs," he countered, and she smiled. "That's part of the reason why I am so fond of you."

"Fond of me?" Hermione's smile widened. "Really?"

Snape looked as if he regretted his words, and he grumbled under his breath before she ran her hands up his arms, feeling tendons ripple underneath her fingertips. He was not overly muscular, but she didn't care. He was intelligent, and so many other things that she admired. It wasn't about appearance, or other superficial things that faded with time. It was what lay underneath the exterior that intrigued her most.

He made a guttural sound deep in his throat as she came closer to him, rubbing up against his robed body, feeling ribs, and a soft belly, and hardness. She dropped to her knees before him and looked up at him.

Go on; go ahead, his eyes seemed to say, filled to the brim with unbridled lust. She nuzzled his clothed groin with her face, and heard the sharp intake of breath. She smiled against him and freed his hardness, catching the tip in her mouth and sucking on it. She could taste a slight bitterness, and salt, and Severus, smell the musk and desire that rose from his arousal, feel his want, his need…and she had never felt such tenderness for one individual as she did now, well, excluding the House Elves of course, but that was completely different. He was so vulnerable in that moment in time and such a guarded man rarely let anyone past his shields.  
She could taste how close he was already, and she sucked harder, working her tongue furiously against the head. Deep, breathy moans filled the office as Severus began arching into her mouth, holding her head tightly against his crotch as he came, spilling himself down her throat. The musky dark curls at the base of his cock tickled her nose and lips, but she stayed with him until the tremors died down and she felt the tension leave his body.

/

White hot pleasure shot through his body, filling up his veins, filling her up with his essence. He wanted to mark her, to claim her; if only people knew who she really belonged to…but he was a private man, and did not like people meddling in his life. He doubted that Hermione would want everyone to know that she was sleeping with greasy old Professor Snape. It was amazing, that she would choose him, over Cormac McClaggen, over Viktor Krum…even over that idiot Ronald Weasley…it was a private triumph, but that was not why he repeated this…sin over and over again. It was an addiction, he was addicted to her, and she was a drug pulsing through the arteries that ran through his heart. Hot, fiery need that burned underneath his skin whenever he saw her, whenever he was near her, in class, in the Great Hall, passing her in the corridor during classes…he couldn't get enough, it seemed.

He huffed under his breath as he righted himself, pulling his trousers up and zipping them closed. Hermione, bless her, was still on her knees, looking up at him with desire shining brightly in her brown eyes.

"Up," he commanded, and still he was astonished that she followed his orders so well. He was not one for tenderness, and sentimentality, yet he couldn't help himself as he gazed upon her soft, pink lips; he captured them in a kiss, and she sighed into his mouth as he lifted her up and carried her to the Floo.

He threw the dust into the fireplace, and stepped inside, his tongue still dancing against Hermione's as they arrived in his chambers. He carried her to the bed and set her upon it, gazing down on her slight, trembling form shivering in the cold of the dungeons. He muttered a warming spell under his breath, and slowly her breathing returned to normal, and she blinked up at him.

Slowly he crawled over her, trapping her underneath his larger frame; he hadn't even bothered to take off his boots. What was she doing to him? It wasn't like him to be so…impatient, so enraptured with a single person that he would let silly, hedonistic emotions control him.

His fingers ventured down her body, lifting up her skirt and sliding his fingers through the wetness that dripped from her…he could smell her arousal, and it was intoxicating. He wanted to taste her again, feel her everywhere, all at once…

Mmm, yes, he was going to hell, he thought as he slowly sucked the finger that was inside of her into his mouth.

He might as well enjoy life while he was still living it.

/

Professor Snape didn't treat her any different in class, but she didn't expect anything else. They had to keep their affair private, and not let anyone else see that there was something else underneath the surface…boiling and hot passion like lava ready to erupt at any second.

"Miss Granger," he snapped, when she interrupted that insufferable Malfoy to give the correct answer on the homework, "Must you always flaunt your superior intelligence every. Single. Day?" He annunciated each word carefully, inflecting the words just right so that she knew he wasn't completely serious, and she could see a certain light in his dark eyes, a light only she was meant to see. It wasn't a sparkle like Dumbledore's, exactly, but it was enough to know that he appreciated her, that he wasn't angry.

/

"Well, my friend, how goes things?"

Severus looked up from his plate to stare into Albus' twinkling blue eyes.

"Fine," he stated abruptly, spooning up another bite of potatoes. He cleared his throat and chanced a glance over towards the Gryffindor table, and he saw her, delicately nibbling on a biscuit as Potter and Weasley rambled on, probably about something to do with Quidditch. She licked her lips to free her mouth of any stray crumbs, and Severus felt a throb of desire at the sight of her pink tongue.

Merlin, he wanted her…wanted her so badly he ached, inside and out.

/

Hermione walked down the corridor towards the dungeons after dinner, her nose buried in a book as usual. She felt a whisper of cloth against her side and stopped, looking up in time to see Snape smirking down at her.

"How—"

"Were you going to wait here for me? How…sweet," he murmured, cornering her until her back hit the wall and she stared up at him with wide eyes.

"Yes," Hermione admitted, feeling her face fill with heat.

"Hmmm," Severus said, running his hand down her side ever so slowly, ever so lightly…he swooped down suddenly and kissed her, sliding his tongue into her mouth, and she moved her lips against his with a sigh.

Suddenly she heard something move, a rustle of clothes, a gasp, and she snapped her head to look around. Surely no one was in this part of the dungeon so soon after dinner. Most of the Slytherins were still in the Great Hall, she made sure that she left early on purpose.

"Did you hear—never mind," Hermione stuttered as Severus frowned and looked around the surrounding area as well.

"I think you are being paranoid, but perhaps we should adjourn to somewhere more accommodating," Severus said reluctantly, as though he didn't want to keep his hands off of her, even if only for a few moments.

They arrived in his bed chambers finally, and he bodily picked her up and gently tossed her on the bed, standing beside it to look down upon her. His nimble fingers made quick work of her shirt, yet she could feel his hands shaking and looked up at him in question.

"What's wrong?" she asked, not knowing why he was acting like this, but he let out a little growl and pounced on her, kissing every bare expanse of skin passionately. She gasped and sighed, and these noises, as usual, seemed to only excite him more. Instead of muffling her voice like she instinctively wanted to, she grew a bit louder as he sealed his lips over one breast and flicked his tongue over the rosy peak. His breathing grew raspier, as if it was coming from deeper in his chest.

They continued on like this for several minutes, until Hermione was almost sobbing against his shoulder in frustration.

She wanted him to hurt her, to make her pay for her sin, but god, what a sin it was, raw, animalistic desire coursing through the both of them to end up colliding together in an explosion of lust.

Finally, oh yes, finally, she could feel him prodding her entrance with his turgid erection, pushing in and thrusting inside of her at a pace faster and harder than what she was used to, but she wasn't complaining…it felt good, so good, and he seemed to know exactly what she needed…

/

"Hermione."

Engrossed in the book she was reading, Hermione heard a faint voice in the back of her head and realized Harry was speaking to her.

"Hmm?"

"Er, can I talk to you for a minute?"

Hermione glanced over at Harry; he looked sweaty, disheveled, and uncomfortable about something. Ron was gone, off gallivanting with Lavender bloody Brown, and it was just Hermione and Harry in the common room.

"I…I saw you. Today. Er, tonight. With Snape."

Hermione's stomach dropped.

"What?"

Harry sighed and ran a hand nervously through his hair. "You've been acting weird lately, and I wasn't being nosy at all, I swear, but I saw you were heading to the dungeons so I went down in my Invisibilty—"

"You followed me?" Hermione could feel fury rise up inside of her until she was almost choking on it.

"I…it isn't like what you think…"

"Then tell me, Harry! Tell me what it is!" Hermione's voice rose, louder and higher pitched, and then she remembered that she didn't want everyone else knowing about her business, not only for herself, but to protect Severus…

"Why the bloody hell are you shagging him, of all people! Even McClaggen would be better!" Harry seemed to become angrier as well.

"It's none of your—"

"Don't you tell me it's none of my business, Hermione, because he's a teacher! And he's old! What are you thinking? I should go tell Dumbledore right now and get the greasy bastard sacked."

Angry tears welled up in Hermione's eyes and she blinked them away furiously. "Please, Harry," she pleaded, relying on Harry's good nature.

Harry looked at her, and her face was probably all blotchy and horrible, and his hard eyes softened slightly.

"Why?" Harry asked simply.

Hermione's voice cracked as she answered. "I—I care about him. A lot. And he cares about me."

"I think he's a dirty old pervert," Harry hissed angrily, and Hermione could feel the tears fall freely down her face.

"No, no, he's not, it's my fault really, I goaded him—"

"And he let himself be seduced, eh? Doesn't sound like either of you, if you ask me."

"Harry…"

"Snape, Hermione? When you could have so many other guys, you had to pick him?"

"You don't know anything," Hermione snarled, and Harry's eyes widened. "I'm going. We are finished here."

"What, are you going to go down to the dungeons now?" Harry said snidely, and Hermione saw red.

"OBLIVIATE!"

Harry blinked once, twice, three times after the spell hit him. "Hermione?"

Hermione let out a ragged sob, and looked away abruptly.

"What's wrong? Why are you crying?" Harry asked softly, and Hermione shook her head silently. Before Harry could utter another word, she disappeared out of the common room, the portrait of the Fat Lady swinging shut behind her.

/

Hermione crawled over Severus, lust evident in her eyes. He shuddered in pleasure as she ran her nimble fingers down his sensitized chest, desire pooling in his groin as she continued her ministrations. 

"Do you want me? Only me?" she cooed, a coy smile twisting her soft lips.

"Only you," Severus murmured, pushing aside the memory of those emerald eyes, that was all in the past, not to be forgotten, but not to be dwelled on either. "Only you…"

A timid knock on the door awoke him, and he bolted out of bed, only clad in a night shirt. Barefoot, he headed towards the door, and frowned as he was greeted with the sight of Hermione's tear stained face.

"What happened?" Severus asked, and she pushed past him and made her way over towards his canopy bed.

"Harry. Harry knows. Well, Harry knew. About…us."

Dread filled Severus, yet he swallowed it back down his throat and stated calmly, "What do you mean, he 'knew'?"

She sniffled. "Obliviate."

"It will be alright," Severus said as he walked over to the bed and gathered up the crying girl into his arms. "Shhh. Shhh."

He rocked her back and forth, albeit a bit awkwardly, as sobs shook her fragile form.

"I can't believe I actually did it," she croaked, and he petted her hair softly, and he couldn't help but inhale the fruity shampoo that she used. He wasn't accustomed to showing this much affection toward someone, but he found that it made him feel a bit warmer inside his cold, icy heart.

After a few moments, she stopped crying, and her body moved back and forth with him.

"Touch me…touch me everywhere, please," she whispered, and he bit back a moan. Merlin, yes, he would touch her, and kiss her, and taste her, until no part of her body was left untouched. He gently pushed her up further onto the bed until she lay on the middle of it, her hair fanned out underneath her, the picture of a goddess. He slid down her body until he reached the hem of her skirt, and he kissed the inside of her thigh. Her leg jerked spasmodically as he kissed up to her panties, which he noted were considerably different from the ones she usually wore; she used to wear plain white underwear, and now, they were more sophisticated, a black lacy little thing that proved to be much flimsier than her usual undergarments. He could smell her sweetness before he even took them off of her.

He pressed his face between her legs, and he could feel that little nub of hardness nudge up against his admittedly large nose; he mouthed it through the black lace and felt her shudder against him, her legs now resting on his shoulders, jerking with every movement he made with his lips. He sucked the bundle of nerves through the panties into his waiting mouth, and as he had barely enough time to lick at it before she was shuddering against him, clutching his head between her thighs and moaning his name.

He stayed down there for a moment, licking his lips and smelling her scent, the aroma of arousal wafting through his senses sensuously.

/

She could see a dim light through her eyelids, and she slowly opened her eyes to see a candle lit by Severus' bedside, and he, next to her, nose buried in a book. She was never one to discourage people from reading, in fact, she encouraged it, but she ran her fingers up the spine of the book and took it out of his hands.

He narrowed his eyes. "I happened to enjoy that book."

"I guess I'll have to make this worth your while, then," Hermione murmured, and she could see fire erupt in the onyx orbs as she straddled his bony hips and bent down to kiss him.

"Hmm, well, you have to get going to the common room soon," Snape hummed against her throat; the vibrations of his velvet voice and the gusting of his breath over her fevered flesh driving her into a state of near frenzy.

Hermione peeled herself off of him reluctantly. "I know."

"No one will find out about Potter, Hermione," Severus said, his voice soothing against her ragged nerves.

"I hope not," Hermione said, "I'm more worried about what would happen to you then I am about myself."

"Don't worry about me," he assured her, "I was a Death Eater. I'm sure I can take care of myself."

Hermione nodded, and it seemed that Snape could tell that she was not convinced. "Everything will be alright, just don't think about it too much, you will only stress yourself out more."

/

It was almost Christmas time, and Hermione watched wistfully as large snowflakes drifted past the window in Charms class. She could feel Harry staring at her again, probably wondering why she wasn't paying any attention. She didn't want him to figure out exactly why her head was in the clouds ever again.

Ron, Harry and Hermione headed down to the dungeons for Defense Against the Dark Arts class, and Hermione stopped as she noticed something hanging above the door. She glanced to her left; Draco Malfoy and his cronies, which included that insufferable Pansy Parkinson, smirked at her. They looked as if they were…waiting for something.

Severus opened the door to the classroom and ushered them inside. As Hermione and Ron walked through the doorway, however, something happened to her.  
She felt compelled to kiss…someone. Anyone. She looked at Ron, and before she could stop herself, she lunged at him, ignoring the laughter and catcalls from her classmates.

Enchanted mistletoe, that's what it was, she registered in her brain as she smashed her mouth against Ron's, who seemed happy to oblige her.

"Enough of this."

Severus stood in front of them, white around his tight lips; he seemed to be shaking slightly, clutching the mistletoe his hand. It seemed as though he had ripped the mistletoe from above their heads.

"Detention, Malfoy, Parkinson," Severus snapped, and with that, he swept into the room and sat down at his desk. Trembling, Hermione took her seat. The rest of the class seemed to be in shock that Snape had given two Slytherins a detention.

That hour was the longest hour of her life. Not once did Severus glance her way, and Ron now had a tendency to squeeze her knee gently under the table, which was dreadfully uncomfortable.

When it was time to go, Hermione ignored the sniggers of fellow classmates (mainly Slytherins, of course). "Go on, I'll meet you in the Great Hall," Hermione said to Ron and Harry.

Soon, she was alone in the room with Snape.

Severus sat at his desk, scribbling furiously at some hapless first year's homework.

"Severus…"

"Miss Granger, what is it you want?"

Those words hit her in the chest like a ball of ice. Miss Granger?

"I…I didn't want that to happen," she stammered, and then stopped. Why was she trying to explain herself? She didn't need to. It wasn't as if they were in an established relationship; they were having an affair.

"Yes, yes, now, I need to finish grading these essays, and I would appreciate it if you would give me some peace and quiet, Miss Granger."

There it was again, Miss Granger.

"Fine," she seethed, gathering up her books and storming out past him out the door, but before she could make it past him, the door slammed shut and locked.

She stopped.

Snape waved his wand at her, and suddenly she was sitting on his desk, her legs spread out before him in a provocative fashion.

"No one," he began, his voice dangerously low, "No one is allowed to touch you. No one but me."

He was jealous, it would seem, and extremely possessive.

It was a good thing she didn't mind.

She gasped as he lightly traced between her legs with the feathery end of his quill, his eyes snapping up to hers to gauge her reaction.

"Here?" she whispered weakly, as he waved his wand again and her clothes evaporated, her hands bound behind her back.

"Here," he answered, leaning forward to run his tongue down the side of her neck. "The door is locked, the room is sound proofed."

"Ahhh," she sighed, closing her eyes as he slipped a hand between her legs, replacing the light quill. She heard a his pants unzip and opened her eyes to see him draw himself out from his trousers and parted robes.

To her surprise, he began lounging in his large chair, stroking himself lazily as she whimpered and pleaded with him to continue.

Severus grasped her hips and pulled her towards him, and she let him position her body over his ruddy arousal.

She cried out as he slammed her down on his cock over and over and over again, claiming her...

/

He was hurt, and envious, and…he mustn't show, lest people catch on.

He wanted to snatch her from Weasley's grip, show her who she truly belonged to. Granted, it was enchanted mistletoe so she was powerless against it, but still…he knew she harbored some feelings for the Weasley boy, and it made him sick inside to know that that miserable oaf held a piece of her precious heart, and yet the boy had not a clue.

This time, when he fucked her, it was to show her who he was, what he was, that it was her choice to be with him, and this is what it meant to be Severus'.

To be his, and his alone.

And as she gasped and cried with pleasure, moisture running down his length as she climaxed, he stilled his hips and buried himself inside of her as he came too; groaning her name against the flushed, sweaty skin of her breast.

Soon, they were in his chambers again, lying on his bed, and he smiled secretly to himself as she traced her finger on the palm of his calloused hand.

"I have to go soon," she said, and he glanced over at her disheveled hair and naked body.

"Not looking like that, you aren't," Severus reprimanded, waving his wand at her again, and her clothes reappeared. Gently, he brushed the wisps of hair from her face and combed his fingers through the bushy mess.

She got up to leave, and as he watched her depart, he felt like there was a hole inside of his chest, a void that was only full when she was near.

He would never tell Hermione that, though.

/

As she left, she felt a little cold. Severus had always seemed like a statue of ice to her before, but now that she had seen what he was truly like, had seen the fire that burned within him, it warmed her to be around him. And when she left, the warmth dwindled down to a flicker like a candle in a storm.

But Severus could never know.

/

/  
A Death Eater Lullaby  
/

Avada Kedavra. 

One spell. Two little words that could shatter her entire world.

Hermione hadn't seen him since he disappeared with the rest of the Death Eaters that fateful night, and never had she felt so cold and defeated. He played her for a fool; he was not the man she thought he was, after all.

She tossed and turned in the tent, images of Severus flitting through her mind.

She closed her eyes, praying to whatever gods were in the heavens that she could have a dreamless sleep.

/

"You."

He spit the word out as if it was venomous, and Hermione's eyes widened at the animosity in his voice.

"Severus?"

"Prove to me, Severus, that you are mine," another, less familiar voice crooned, and Voldemort stepped out of the mist that coalesced on the Astronomy Tower. "Kill her."

Kill 

Kill

"You are nothing to me. Nothing."

Hermione's eyes filled with tears, and Snape sneered hatefully at her before raising his wand.

"Nothing," he repeated. "AVADA KEDAVRA!"

With a gasp, Hermione bolted up, her eyes scanning the tent. Harry lay on his side, snoring soundly.

The conflict that twisted her heart now tormented her endlessly. Would she ever see him again, she wondered. If she did…

…what would she do?

/

"Expecto Patronum," Severus murmured under his breath, waiting to see the silver doe in all its beautiful glory. What he saw instead gave him quite a shock.  
He wasn't certain of what it was at first, and, after squinting a bit at it, he surmised it was in fact an otter. What did this mean? His heavy heart seemed to soar a bit when he saw it, and he couldn't understand why. What was the significance of this Patronus?

Severus watched as Harry Potter followed his Patronus, and the silver animal looked ethereal in the moonlit forest.

He watched as Harry dove for the sword, and cursed Potter for his stupidity...no one else was with him, and yet he slid into the icy water all the same. Severus never had been so happy to see a Weasley as he had that night, as Weasley emerged from the shadows to grab Harry and the sword and pull them both to safety.  
Severus, still hidden among the trees, peered out to see them open a locket, and then something came out of it.

It was Hermione, even more beautiful then she already was. Her silvery skin glowed in the moonlight, and he could see Weasley's eyes widen as a similar form of Potter emerged from the locket.

She was naked, as was Potter, and although Severus knew that it wasn't really them, that they weren't real, something inside of him seemed to shatter into a million shards when he saw the two creatures kissing passionately. Envy, pooled deep in his belly, threatened to explode out of him like an angry volcano. He could feel his hands tremble at the fake intimacy between the ghostly forms.

He had to leave. Potter found the sword, that was why he had come here, and his mission was complete.

For now. 

/

Blood dripped on the floor from the words carved into her flesh, and it stung, like retribution. Mudblood. 

"Crucio!"

Hermione screamed as the spell jolted her bones and sent pain surging through her frail body. Bellatrix cackled maniacally.

"Ickle mudblood, are you going to tell me the truth now? Where is the sword?" 

"I don't have it, it's a fake, I've never been in your vault," Hermione cried, and the door creaked open. Her eyes widened as she saw who it was.

"Severus!"

Snape stopped in his tracks, looking upon the scene with an impassive mask. It was a mask, wasn't it? She thought he had cared for her…he couldn't let her be tortured like this, please…

"Severus…please…" Hermione gasped, and then recoiled as Bellatrix slapped her in the face.

"Severus? Severus please," she taunted, poking Hermione's cheek with her wand. "He's not going to help you, ikkle Mudblood.

Snape's eyes were fixed on Hermione, and she could see no light, no warmth, just an empty abyss.

"When did we get this one?" he asked simply, and Bellatrix let out another cackle.

"A few hours ago, I suspect they broke into my vault to steal the sword," she said, and Snape's eyebrows rose slightly.

"Severus…" Hermione sobbed, willing him to help her, even if it meant to kill her, to end this horrible torment.

Bellatrix's head swiveled to meet Snape's dark gaze. "Why does she keep calling you that, Snape? Why—" Bellatrix's beady eyes grew like saucers. "Ahhh. How sweet," she crooned, "you kept the little Mudblood as your pet. And to think I ever doubted your allegiance…Hmmm, well, here she is, Severus, time to play!"

Snape's eyes darted from between Hermione and Bellatrix and then back to Hermione, and his eyes were like hard, glittering gems.

"No," Snape's deep voice resonated in the large room, and it seemed to be the only reality in this surreal nightmare for Hermione. "We shall see what the Dark Lord wants to do with her."

"She's nothing! Nothing but trash!" Bellatrix spit at Hermione, and the spittle ran down her face, a mockery of the tears that she had shed.

"She is Harry Potter's friend. She can be used as leverage, or for information."

Snape's betrayal forced itself down Hermione's throat until she was choking on it. "No…no, you said…you said you—"

"Stupid, childish girl!" Bellatrix screeched, "Can't you see he never loved you? You were nothing but a-"

"Enough." Snape strode over to the chair Hermione was tied to, and with a flick of his wand, loosened her bonds. "I will take her with me, to Hogwarts. I am headed there anyway. I will get what the Dark Lord wants from her."

"BUT MY VAULT—"

"Is perfectly safe. How could three foolish young children break into a Gringotts vault, Bella?"

He scooped up her trembling body effortlessly into his arms and held her close to his chest, and before Bellatrix could so much as move, they Apparated together.  
Shivering and crying, Hermione clung onto Snape for dear life, in those moments, it didn't matter that he was really a murderer, it was unimportant that he was a Death Eater…he had rescued her from torture. She could feel his hand lightly stroking up and down her spine, and she relaxed in his grip.

She gazed at her surroundings: they were at Hogwarts, but Snape's chambers were different.

"I am Headmaster now, and these are Dumbledore's old chambers," Snape murmured, as if he read Hermione's mind, and Hermione nodded weakly.

"I know. I saw the…I saw you in the Daily Prophet."

"Ah." He set her down on a nearby couch, and she crumpled in on herself, tears rolling down her pale face.

"Why?"

Severus didn't answer right away; instead, he knelt before her, and inspected her arm, where the word Mudblood was carved into her skin, blood shining brightly in the dim candlelight. His face was usually impassive, but something emotional, something deeper than anger or sadness flickered across his face and seeped into his eyes, and Hermione was frightened because she didn't know what it was.

He accioed ointment and bandages from a nearby cabinet, and almost tenderly he bound her wound, staring intently in concentration as she whimpered softly. Snape cleared his throat.

"Trust me when I say that it is safer you do not know," Snape said. "You cannot leave here. You won't be able to see your friends, if ever again. "

Hermione gaped at him. "What do you mean?"

Severus knelt before her still, slowly taking one shoe off of her left foot, then working on the next. "I am your jailor, not your savior, Miss Granger. Do not resent me for it." The last words were muttered as he slid the jeans off of her legs, without magic. He began kissing up her leg, and she sighed as nostalgia hit; god, she had missed this, missed him, and now they were together again, did it really matter that all this had happened? What mattered most was that she was here, with him now.

But wait—

 

"Why did you lie to me?" Hermione gasped, as he lifted her shirt up and began leaving hot kisses on her stomach.  
She could feel Severus purr against her skin as she trembled and her breathing became erratic. "A—answer the question, please," she begged, and he said nothing, but she could feel his dark chuckle resonate in her bones and flesh. Maybe Bellatrix was right—she was nothing but a toy for him to play with when he grew bored; he was a cat and she a mouse, and he played with his dinner before he swallowed her down and she was no more.

"Get off of me," she hissed, but his only response was to rip her shirt and bra off with one deft motion of his arm. No, no, I don't trust you anymore, get away from me, her mind screamed at her, and she whimpered as he descended upon her breasts, encasing one rosy peak into the wet cavern of his mouth.

She backed away from him as much as she could, but she hit the arm of the couch and there was nowhere else to go. The gentle sucking became biting as she struggled against him, and tears rolled freely down her cheeks. "Stop, stop, please, I don't want this anymore," she cried weakly, and to her shock and surprise, he released her, his dark eyes, once dull earlier at the Manor, now bright with arousal. She ignored the yearning hunger that gnawed at her insides, and instead of kissing him, like she had wanted to before, more than anything; she hid her damp face in the crook of her arm, sobs racking her body.

/

Severus stared as Hermione sobbed. Her distress was caused by him, and the only time he had felt worse was when he had called Lily Evans a—

"Hermione," he murmured, but the sound of Severus uttering Hermione's name only seemed to make her hysteria worse.

"Leave me alone," she croaked, and Severus complied, lifting himself off of her and disappearing into his bed chambers silently.

He lay on top of the bed without bothering to take off his robes, frock coat, or boots, his mind racing. It was barely even evening, yet he felt so worn out already.

He had protected Harry Potter all these years, under Dumbledore's orders, for the memory of one woman.

Lily.

Now there was another woman in his life, and he did nothing to protect her, just like last time with Lily, and he cared for her almost as much as he had cared for Lily Evans…his first and only true friend, though he would be remiss to admit it.

He shouldn't have done that…he shouldn't have exerted her after all that torture she had gone through…but it was almost as if he couldn't contain his want…he had always prided himself on his iron self control, but where was it now?

He couldn't tell her whose side he truly was on, lest she be put in more danger than she already was. He was sure that she was skilled at Occlumency, but even that wouldn't be able to protect her from Voldemort's Legilimency. If he told her now, then there was a chance that he would be discovered as a spy, a traitor, and he would be killed before he had a chance to do anything, to protect the children of Hogwarts from the Carrows…and Hermione would most likely be tortured, humiliated, or…he didn't want to think of the other possibilities. He had been a Death Eater for so long, he knew their ways, and he knew what would happen if Hermione was captured again.

He wanted to do so much, wanted to rescue her, be her knight in shining armor, but it didn't work that way; only in Muggle fairytales did the handsome Prince Charming come to liberate the fair damsel.

And Severus was no Prince Charming.

/

As Hermione awoke, a delicious smell flooded her nostrils, and her stomach growled.

She slipped out of bed silently and opened the door.

"Hello, Hermione," Severus greeted her as he poured two glasses of red wine.

Hermione blinked. "What's this?"

Severus cleared his throat. "I believe our reunion got off to a…bad start, so I'm making it up to you. Sit down, please," and he gestured to the chair across the table from him. "I cooked it myself."

Hermione's eyes widened.

"You mean…"

"I know you don't approve using House Elves, so I decided to cook dinner. I believe it turned out well."

Hermione smiled weakly, and walked over to where Severus was standing. She wrapped his arms around his waist and gazed up at him with wide eyes, and he in turn stared back down at her.

"Am I forgiven?" he whispered, and she made a little sound in her throat.

"I haven't decided yet," she answered. "There is so much to be taken into account." And she had so many burning questions, questions she knew he wouldn't answer.  
She released her hold on him, and sat down at the table. "Steak?"

"Yes," Severus said, and though it was almost not perceivable, she could detect some pride in his voice.

/

"So…"

"So," Severus answered in kind, amusement thick in his voice.

Hermione tried to look as dainty as possible as she shoveled the food into her mouth. It had been awhile since she had eaten a full meal, and especially one as delicious as this.

"Wow, you're a really good cook, Severus!" she exclaimed, and she saw him preen a bit as his black eyes sparkled at her.

"Yes, well, it's not unlike potions, is it not?"

Hermione made a noise under her breath in agreement and continued to eat as Severus took a sip of wine.

"I've missed you," he said, and Hermione swallowed and looked up at him.

"I've missed you too," she answered, and he stared deep into her eyes. "But—"

"I know you have many questions," he interrupted, "but trust me when I say that you cannot know everything."

"Why did you—"

Severus put a hand up. "Please," he said cordially. "I do not wish to speak of these things. You are here, that is all that matters. You will be safe with me."

Hermione took a large swig of wine, and choked a little at the taste of the alcohol. Severus raised a single brow.

"Eat up, I know you're hungry. If you want more, all you have to do is ask."

/

They had finished dessert, and Hermione wiped her mouth on her napkin and stood up. Suddenly Severus was by her side, staring down at her with his midnight eyes.

"Dance for me," Severus murmured, and she could smell the wine, heavy on his breath, but it did not deter her from kissing him.

"Hmmm?"

"I want you to…" he started, then slipped his hands down her back to grasp her bottom. "I want you to dance for me."

Suddenly Hermione felt self conscious. She had never done anything like that for anyone before, not even for Severus. But she wanted to please him, and a part of her was intrigued by the idea.

"Alright, er," she said awkwardly, but he waved his wand and she heard sultry music playing softly. "You're drunk."

"Maybe a little," he admitted, "but I want to see your beautiful body. It's been so long."

She blushed furiously as he said that, and surmised that yes, he must be a little drunk to say such things, things that were so out of character for him to say. But she relented, moving and swaying to the music slowly, relishing the sound of his sharp intake of breath. She slid her hands up her body to unbutton her shirt and it dropped to the floor, forgotten. Soon she was in nothing but her undergarments, and, feeling bold, she inched closer to his chair as the song reached its crescendo.

/

She danced directly in front of him now, her body moving so smoothly, she was liquid gold, so fluid, so perfect, so…

His eyes became hooded as she came closer, seemingly lost in the sound, and the feel of her body's motions. He grasped her hand and stood up, and she blinked up at him with such innocent eyes…a miracle those eyes could still be so innocent, even after all Severus and Hermione had done together.

He twirled her around, and she spun gracefully. She turned towards him once more, and her eyes were wild now. She moved against him, and he let her, oh Merlin, yes, he would let her do whatever she wanted. He slipped the hair tie from her hair, and watched with delight as it cascaded down her bare shoulders.

He sat back down in his chair, and, panting, she dropped to her knees on the rug, moving her body to the beat of the music, crawling towards him seductively. He spread his legs as she moved closer, her hair flying around her, some strands sticking to her face as beads of sweat rolled down her flushed cheeks.

Finally she reached her destination, and he closed his eyes as she unzipped his fly and drew him out of his trousers. He shuddered as he was rubbed and stroked; her finger dabbled at the sticky tip before she slowly inserted it into her mouth and sucked on it.

He growled, impatience and arousal overwhelming him at last. He joined her on the floor, the bed completely forgotten, and settled his body over her slender, half naked form. She rubbed up against him, gyrating and grinding to the music still, and he clenched his teeth as he willed his body not to tremble with excitement.

/

His breath was damp as he sought out her throat, and she bared it for him, allowing the sensations to wash over her body and heart. Prickling with arousal, her body sang to him like an instrument waiting to be played. She could feel moans threatening to spill from her lips already, but they seemed to be caught in a web in the back of her throat. It had been so long since she had seen him, had heard him, had felt him, and it all seemed to be rushing back to her now as if nothing had ever changed. But still…this was wrong. He murdered Dumbledore. He was a traitor.

"Ohh, oh yes," he murmured between kisses, voice heavy with desire, "Scream for me, little one. I want to hear you."

Hermione shook her head back and forth. "I—I can't," she began, but he sank his crooked teeth into the tender flesh of her neck, and she clenched his back spasmodically as the pleasure-pain lanced through her body.

"You will," he whispered, and his promise made her shiver, "I'll make you scream."

He kissed down her throat, licking at the place where he had bitten her, soothing the mark with his tongue and lips, before making his way down her body until he reached that forbidden place, the place that no other man had ever touched, or tasted...

Severus kissed her between her legs, seeming to savor her taste. He licked his lips and stared up at her, and she could see the heat and passion in his dark eyes.

/

Severus laved her slowly, and he groaned against Hermione's wetness as she clutched his head between her thighs, and stroked her hands through his greasy hair. He knew that the vibrations of his deep voice against her moistened flesh drove her wild, so he began to speak to her, alternating between licks and sucks.

"Mmm, you are my girl, aren't you?" he asked, slithering a hand up to gently massage one of her breasts.

"What? Ohhhh—" was the eloquent answer, and he chuckled darkly, causing her to jerk against his lips.

He could feel the muscles of her thighs tense as he ran his tongue languorously over her hot, tender flesh, and spread her legs even further as he began to gently suck that little bundle of nerves that hid behind its cloak. She twisted and uttered the most delicious, soft noises that he would give anything to hear again.

"Delicious," he murmured, as he continued to feast upon her. He could feel her approaching her climax, and he sped up the movements of his mouth.

More wetness seeped from her core, and he slid his tongue up into her tightness, feeling her small hole constrict around it.

She made another strangled sound, and she ground herself into his hungry mouth. He eagerly pushed his face against her so that she surrounded him on all sides, like an ocean of sweetness and salt and sweat and Hermione…

Ah.

Please…please, let me touch you…caress you…love you. Worship you the way you deserve to be worshipped.

Yessss.

/

Oh…oh!

Pure pleasure, shooting spidery veins of desire through her body…

Oh, she had missed this, missed him, missed everything about him, and the state that he brought her to, and the things he could do to her…

Yesyesyesyesohyes.

She felt heat rise like tide inside of her, threatening to overflow and crash over the brim. She pushed herself closer to him, pressing against his face, and he groaned loudly into her flesh. It reverberated through her body, creating more tremors that shook her as if she were the earth, being ripped apart by all of these wonderful, familiar sensations.

Suddenly, there was a sharp pressure centered on the tiny pearl of flesh, and she shot up in the air, gasping for breath as her climax hit her, waves of pleasure colliding inside of her.

He licked her gently one last time before crawling above her, kissing her so that she could taste her own flavor along with the wine that she could still taste on his tongue.

/

"So, Severus. Bellatrix tells me an interesting tale."

Severus met Voldemort's gaze unflinchingly.

"She tells me…that you have a certain…fondness for a particular Mudblood witch."

That word rubbed up against his spine the wrong way, and he resisted the urge to clench his teeth.

"Oh?"

"Yes, Severus, apparently you have been consorting with this child, is this true?"

"She is no longer a child…"

"Ah, but I wonder how long this has been going on. I know you will tell me the truth, Severus, it just confounds me that you have not told me of this girl before."

Severus gazed into the Dark Lord's red eyes stonily. "I had seen no importance to our cause—"

"She is friends with Harry Potter, is she not, Severus? She could have valuable information about him. Your new task is to find out the current whereabouts of Harry Potter using this girl."

Severus said nothing, and Voldemort came closer to him. "And if you don't succeed, I will…find other uses for the girl. None too pleasant uses."

"My Lord." He bowed, and then looked up at the Dark Lord once more. He couldn't tell him that he cared nothing for Hermione, because then she would be taken away from him forever.

/

Wide eyed, Hermione sat on the bed in the dark, waiting for Severus to return.

The wards that kept her caged inside of his bedroom were impossible to breach. The funny thing was…she hadn't even tried to escape. Oh god, it would seem as though she were developing Stockholm Syndrome, if she hadn't felt this way about him before, that is.

She heard a muttered spell on the opposite side of the door, and the lock clicked, and the door opened.

The light that filtered into the bedchambers stung her light-deprived eyes, and she blinked a few times to grow accustomed to it.

Severus hung his robes up, and began to unbutton his frock coat before Hermione slid off the bed and approached him boldly.

"Sir…" she whispered, running her hands down his chest, feeling the pectoral muscles ripple underneath her fingers as he let out a long sigh.

"Hermione, I don't think we should—"

"Please," she begged, retreating until the backs of her knees hit the bed and she fell onto it, giving him what she was sure was a nice view up the nightshirt he had Transfigured for her. She pulled her dangling legs up on the bed, spreading them slowly.

She looked up and saw him above her in an instant, caging her underneath his larger body.

She was caught in his web, wrapped up in the sticky strands, but she didn't want to call for help.

He was a spider, she was the fly…but she knew her fate already was to be devoured by him, and she accepted it, as he nuzzled her throat, hot breath steaming on her sweaty skin. She wanted it, too, wanted him to consume her, and wasn't she horrible, for betraying Ron and Harry like this? Leaving them behind so that she could satisfy her desires? Granted, it wasn't her choice to leave them behind, this time…but she pushed aside the nagging thought that maybe, if she had the choice to be with Severus or to be with them, she would still be here, with Severus.

She knew she would be, even now that she knew he was a murderous traitor. He was still hers, and she still wanted him more than anything she could ever remember wanting before.

"Oh—oh, please," she begged, as he leisurely kissed her, brushing strands of brown hair out of her face and staring deep into her eyes.

"Beautiful," she heard him whisper, and the words seemed private, as if she wasn't supposed to have heard them, because he cleared his throat and a flush spread across his pallid face.

"Your eyes—" Severus started, "You…" But what Snape was going to say next, she never found out, because the next moment he was kissing her more fiercely then before, and she could taste his passion, boiling just underneath the surface.

Hermione sighed, letting the sensations of their lovemaking caress her. She offered herself to him and greedily he took her, sucking harsh kisses into her vulnerable flesh. She gasped and mewled against him as he continued to worship her, and she felt so selfish, because she only wanted more and more.

It was intoxicating…heat, desire, musk…the sights, the smells, and the sounds—especially the sounds, his voice, murmuring in her ear, like silken strands of lust coiling over and around Hermione's nerve endings. It was addicting, all of it, and Hermione couldn't get enough.

/

He could feel himself trembling as he looked down upon her, feel his limbs shake and his teeth bite his quivering lips as he stared at her fragile young body. 

Hermione. Hermione. 

"Hermione," he said out loud, repeating the mantra that repeated itself over and over again in his head out in the open for her to hear. He gazed into her eyes, seemingly ordinary eyes, but they reminded him of melted chocolate, with droplets of honey glistening from the depths.

"Sev, now, please…"

Severus stopped.

Hermione let out a tiny mewl of frustration and clawed at his frock coat uselessly.

"What did you say?" Severus asked quietly, feeling so many emotions rise up and choke him at the sound of that name.

/

"Wha—what do you mean?" Hermione stammered, feeling the sudden change in Severus. It made her uneasy.

"What did you call me?" Severus demanded, his fingers inching their way up her body and closer to her throat. Hermione's breathing became erratic, but not from exertion; from fear.

"Sev?" What was wrong with that, it was a playful nickname; surely no one else had ever given him one before, as he was not a very sociable person, and never had been.

"Never call me that. Ever again," he hissed into her ear menacingly, and she shivered as all his warmth disappeared and was replaced with frigid ice. Before she could say anything else, he lifted himself up off of her and the next thing she heard was the door slamming shut.

/

Lily…

He loved her, she was his dearest friend, this was true, and he did not want to desecrate her memory, but…wasn't this what she would have wanted for him? She was a kind, good soul, and she would want him to be happy. And he was as happy as he could be in times like these.

He shouldn't have gotten angry at Hermione for using that name, she couldn't have known what it meant to him…something sacred, yet, it didn't seemed tarnished now that Hermione used Lily's nickname for him. Rather, it seemed to keep the memory of her alive, along with the new memories he was making with Hermione.  
He took another deep gulp of fire whiskey and sighed.

Life never used to be this complicated.

/

Hermione was confused, and hurt, and—why did he care so much about a stupid nickname? She didn't understand, and it wasn't often Hermione didn't understand something. The feeling scared her.

The door creaked open, and Hermione squinted as a dark shadow stood silhouetted in the doorway.

"Professor?" she whispered, not wanting to provoke him again if it really was him. Honestly, who else could it be?

"Ooh, the Dark Lord said she would be in here," a woman cackled.

"Pretty little girl," she heard a man say hoarsely, and the fine hairs at the nape of her neck stood straight up.

/

The wards.

Damn it to hell, he forgot to put the wards of protection over his chambers before he stormed out. Severus swept out of the Three Broomsticks in a flurry of black robes, and strode purposely towards Hogwarts. Damn, damn, damn…

As soon as he entered through the main entrance, he threw all reserve off the Astronomy Tower, and raced up towards his Headmaster office, and the bedchambers connected to it.

As he had suspected and feared, the door was open. Whoever it was who got into his office figured out the password to get past the gargoyle. There was no one in the office, but Severus could hear voices further back, in his bedchambers, and could see the lamp shining light through the crack in the doorway.

He burst through the cracked door, and beheld the horrible sight before him; Hermione was suspended above the bed, upside down, fresh blood dripping from her forehead and onto the sheets. The bandage that was on her arm was gone and the word mudblood stood out to him on her pale skin.

"Oh, Severus, nice of you to join us," Alecto crowed, and her brother grinned from his spot beside Hermione's floating body. Severus felt fury, unbridled and fierce, build up inside of him as the Carrow brother lowered his wand and let Hermione drop to the bed; Amycus bent down over Hermione's prone form and licked the line of blood that dripped down her temple and neck. He faced Severus then, his mouth twisted in an obscene, horrible smile, his teeth glinting red in the light.

"The Dark Lord said you had taken the little mudblood as your own, but we wanted to play with her a bit," Amycus elaborated, "Share and share alike, as old friends do."

/

"Share and share alike, as old friends do," Carrow said, and Hermione whimpered as he poked her scabbed arm with his wand.

"We are not old friends."

Hermione was immobile and couldn't see Severus' face, yet she had never heard his voice sound like that before, so full of rage and fire. Usually, when she had ever seen Severus angry, it was an icy anger that chilled her to the bone. Now, she could almost feel her flesh burn away from her body at the words that came out of his mouth next.

"CRUCIO!"

Both of the Carrows fell to the floor, screaming in agony. A few more hits of Crucio, and all that Hermione could hear were the outraged cries of the Carrow siblings.  
"What—the—"

"Silence." The frost was back in his voice, the cold, resigned anger that she was used to. "Never touch her again."

"Oh, and why shouldn't we?" Alecto said snidely, a brave feat, considering that she was still trembling on the floor.

"This one is mine. No one else's. Mine," Severus hissed, and Hermione sat up; the curse that was cast upon her was lifted now. The Carrows stood, staring at Severus in anger.

"She's not—"

"Oh, but she is," Severus said, circling the bed. "She is mine to hurt, and to touch. The Dark Lord himself granted me permission to keep her for my own. Now, old friends, I suggest that you leave, before another Cruciatus finds its way from my wand.

"The Dark Lord will hear of this!" Alecto screeched. Severus smirked, looking self-satisfied.

"Indeed, I hope he does. When he finds out that you hurt one of his most trusted Death Eater's possessions, he will be...displeased, to say the least."

At those words, the Carrows scrambled through the doorway and through the office, and Hermione could hear the door slam.

"Possession?" Hermione whispered. "Is that all I am to you? Something to own, because you can't get anyone else to love you?"

Snape's eyes narrowed. "That is very ungrateful, considering I just saved your life."

"You were the one who left me here unprotected," Hermione retorted, then whimpered as pain sliced through her head and body. She fell back onto the pillows and closed her eyes.

In an instant, Snape was there, the back of his hand on her forehead. "You're bleeding," he said, his silky voice slightly rough. She heard him faintly as he accioed a damp towel and gently wiped the blood off of her temple and neck.

"If you hadn't come back…" Hermione muttered, "…I don't know what would have happened to me."

"Let's not think about that," Snape said softly, his hands warm and tender against her sore body.

She sighed and closed her eyes as he continued his ministrations, gently washing the blood away from her skin. She could feel his breath caress her sticky flesh as he came closer, and she opened her eyes to look up at his face; his prominent hooked nose, his cheekbones, his greasy, dark hair…things that should not be as pleasing to her as they were. Most people found him repugnant, but not Hermione…she appreciated him for who he was, no matter how much of a troubled soul he proved himself to be. There was so much she didn't know about him, and he fascinated her to no end…

She yawned, and Snape put the towel away. She could hear the rustle of clothes, and he crawled into the bed in his grey nightshirt, his hair roughened legs brushing up against her own shaking limbs. She turned to face him slowly, and their lips met, tongues battling for dominance until Hermione succumbed. She could feel his cock through his thin nightshirt, growing with arousal, and she slithered down his body until it was staring her in the face, a dewdrop of glistening liquid dangling from the slit. She licked at it, and she could feel his moan reverberate through his body into hers.

"Hermione, you're weak, you should be resting," he reprimanded, but the rest of his words seemed to be caught in his throat as she engulfed him.

/

It was embarrassing, really, that she could reduce him to this…this needy man, begging for mercy. He lay in bed, listening to her steady breathing, willing the sound to lull him to sleep. Yet no rest was to be found for Severus Snape; his mind was full of so many conflicting thoughts. It was never this difficult before, to just submit to the desires that took control of his being. But now, now that they were at war and their lives were at stake, it was different. Love—

No. No. Love? He couldn't even entertain the idea. He wasn't supposed to fall for this…this child. But as much as he lied to himself, he knew deep inside that the girl held a special place in his heart.

Severus turned over on his side, and frowned, deep in thought. He knew that his time was coming. He was not a stupid man, and he knew that his life did not have a long expectancy to it. There was just the matter of taking care of Hermione, protecting her up until the moment his life ended, perhaps even after that.

There was…something he could do. It would be very, very dangerous, and risky, and it was the only solution he could come up with.

He didn't want her to be alone, he wanted her with her friends, but…that was not possible right now. The only thing he could do was to link their minds, so that he would know where she is, and she would know where Severus was, at all times. He had to be very careful to make sure that the link was not too strong, that she wouldn't be able to hear the thoughts that ran through his head. This was Legilmency at its most difficult.

He rolled over on the bed, and tapped Hermione's temple with his wand gently, then placed his wand at his own temple. A silver-blue cord appeared from his head to connect with hers, and she shuddered in her deep sleep as the blue light seeped into her, giving her closed eyes an eerie glow that he could see even through her eyelids.

Satisfied with his magic, Severus stared at Hermione until the glow died down and she gave a little sigh, restlessly tossing her head back on the pillow. A rare smile, tinged with sadness, crept across his face as he stared down at her, and he tenderly touched her cheek with his bony hand before he rolled back on his side.  
Sleep was impossible during times like these. He wished he could protect her from everything; he didn't want her to see death, and destruction.

/

"Severus," the Dark Lord said, staring intently into his eyes, "I want you to bring your little play-thing tonight, at the meeting."

"My Lord?" Severus' heart dropped out of his chest, only to be replaced with emptiness.

"I hear you are quite a possessive master, Severus," Voldemort continued, "and I am very curious…"

Curious? This wasn't good.

"Yes, my Lord." Severus bowed his head down obediently. What other choice did he have than to obey, lest be discovered as a spy, and have Hermione taken away from him forever?

/

"Hermione."

She heard a distant voice, soothing, tranquil, deep and velveteen, yet tinged with some sort of emotion that she had become all too familiar with recently—fear.

She bolted upright in the bed.

"Severus?"

"Hermione. There's—the Dark Lord wishes for me to bring you with me tonight. For…entertainment, if you will."

"E—entertainment?"

"You forget that I am a Death Eater, and that is not something to be taken lightly," he seethed, pacing back and forth in front of her.

"Oh my god…" Hermione shuddered, terror rolling down her spine.

"Panicking will not help the situation at all," Severus snapped, and Hermione said nothing.

/

"Severus…" the Dark Lord greeted him, and looked down at Hermione mockingly. "I would have thought that she would be better dressed for such an occasion as this, my friend."

Snape smirked, and Hermione's blood ran cold as she was reminded of his past…a past she knew very, very little about…but it didn't even take one as intelligent as her to surmise what had happened.

"What do you suggest, my Lord?" Severus asked, stroking his fingers up and down Hermione's spine. Instead of warming her, it sent chills through her body.

"In my opinion, Mudbloods—" and he spit the word out as if it were poison—"are no more equipped to wear clothes than a common House Elf. So why don't we dress her in similar attire?"

Severus nodded, and Hermione bit back a sob. He didn't even hesitate to wave his wand over her body, and suddenly she was in House Elf garb, nothing more than a brown cloth that barely covered her thighs. She trembled from fear and the cold, and Voldemort let out a cackle.

"Much better. Now, what shall we do with you, my dear?" Voldemort inquired, as if her opinion mattered at all. Hermione swallowed down the retort that lay on her tongue, instead looking up at Severus, who was staring straight ahead at a painting on the wall as if Hermione didn't exist. "Come, Severus. Sit by me."

Severus sat down in the chair next to Voldemort, who let out another chuckle as the other Death Eaters murmured amongst themselves. Hermione stood beside his chair, looking demurely at the floor, trying to avoid their horrible gazes.

"Girl." Voldemort snapped his fingers, and Hermione looked up at him, but not into his eyes. She was confident enough in Occlumency, but she didn't want to risk anything. "Come here."

Hermione walked stiffly over to the Dark Lord.

"I want you to do something for your dear Professor," Voldemort said, his high reedy voice falsely gentle. "Get down on your knees."

Hermione dropped to her knees, her heart pounding. Surely she wouldn't have to do anything sexual in front of—

"Kiss his boots," Voldemort ordered, and Hermione bent down, her lips touching the toe of Severus' leather boot. Voldemort laughed, and his cackle was chorused by several more uncouth Death Eaters, the raucous sounds ripping through her head as her face burned with shame and humiliation.

"My, my, Severus! Such an obedient girl! You have trained her well. Or was she always this…submissive?"

"She was, in fact," Severus drawled as more laughter ensued. "She begs and pleads, so prettily too."

"Let's see just how submissive she really is," Voldemort said, and Hermione waited with baited breath for her sentence. "I want you to take her, Severus."

Snape paused.

Hermione heard a bark of laughter. Bellatrix.

"My Lord," she shrieked, mirth evident in her tone. "She's such a little slut. Let me play with her a bit! Or Lucius—Lucius, dear, I can see the way you're looking at her!"  
Hermione chanced a glance at Malfoy, her face turning red with shame as she saw Draco sitting beside him, his eyes averted. Lucius, on the other hand, was staring intently at her, his silvery eyes burning her like sunlight.

Voldemort raised his hand. "I believe that Severus has earned the rights to this one, he has been one of my most faithful servants. Yes, Bella," he continued, as Bellatrix opened her mouth to argue, "he has staked his claim on her, and I respect it. So should all of you."

Hermione almost let out a sigh of relief, but she knew her ordeal wasn't over quite yet. The night was still young, unfortunately…

"But still. I wish to be entertained," Voldemort said, and goose bumps broke out on her tender flesh. "I've changed my mind. I don't wish you to take her, Severus, but show us how you have broken her in."

Before Hermione could even so much as blink, Severus Snape was on top of her, pushing her down to the ornate rug on the floor, but it wasn't like any of the other times…

Not like the times when he gently coaxed her body to sing to him…

Not like the times when he was feverishly passionate and wanted her more than anything else in the world…

He looked down at her as his hands were roaming wildly across her body, and his eyes were dead, like an empty well, devoid of any life.

She was confused, too…they hadn't planned for this, she didn't anticipate that this was going to happen, here, in front of them, and she didn't know how she should respond.

Should she be timid, and take everything he forced upon her?

Or should she struggle, and make the night even more delightful for those wretched people?

She chose the latter.

"No," she mumbled, twisting her body away from his grasping, greedy claws.

"Do not disobey me," Snape growled, his voice a menacing rumble that echoed through her body.

"No," she said again, louder this time, so the others could hear her. She heard the clatter of chairs being moved to watch the events transpire, and she felt sick.  
He ripped the cloth bag down, baring her chest, and latched onto a tender nipple with his sharp, crooked teeth. He bit into her flesh, harder than he ever had before, and Hermione cried out as she felt fluid run down her breast, whether it was his saliva, or her blood, she didn't know.

She couldn't look at him.

It all happened so slow, yet it was a blur to her at the same time.

So many thoughts were racing through her head as he grasped her by the hair roughly, baring her throat to his hungry mouth.

She couldn't fight the feelings of betrayal and hurt anymore, so she tried to force the feelings of love, and passion, back into her mind and heart.

Make me bleed

Break me

Hurt me

Own me completely

Please, it's the only reality, you're the only real thing here, only you, please don't let them touch me

Touch me 

Touch me

And not once, during their ordeal, did he kiss her.

/

He could taste her blood, sharp and metallic in his mouth, and it disgusted him.

He was horrified that he had to do this to her, his beautiful girl, in front of…

But he had no other choice. It was either do or die.

He extended the foreplay out as long as he could, not wanting to completely humiliate her in front of all the jeering Death Eaters, and a sigh of relief almost escaped his lips as Voldemort told him to cease. Thank Merlin he didn't have to…

"Sit, Severus. And bring your little Mudblood with you."

Severus lifted himself off of Hermione and waved his wand over her now immobile form. She was staring up at the ceiling, her eyes glassy.

He sat down in his chair, and positioned her with his wand so that she sat perched upon his lap. She uttered no sounds.

/

"I know you have much work to do as Headmaster, Severus, so why don't you take your little pet Mud Blood and go for now? I trust to see her again soon," Voldemort said, and Snape rose, nodding sharply.

"Of course, My Lord."

"Good."

Snape grasped Hermione by her ponytail once more and lifted her head up to stare him in the eyes. "Come. We're going back to Hogwarts."

Tears prickled in the corners of Hermione's eyes but she blinked them away furiously as they used the Floo from the Malfoy Manor back to Snape's chambers.

As soon as they arrived, Hermione pushed past Snape and into his bedchambers, leaving him standing in the fireplace. She didn't care. She knew he had to play his part convincingly, but the problem was…it was too convincing. What if he really thought that little about her? What if that was all she was to him?

A possession.

With a strangled sob, she tore what was left of the House Elf cloth from her body until she was nude.

An hour went by, and she still lay in the bed, naked and alone. That hour was one of the longest of her life…she wasn't sure what to think of anything now.

She slipped out of bed and opened the door a crack, and peered out into the living room.

Snape was sitting on the couch, but he wasn't reading, or doing much of anything, actually. In fact, he was staring in fireplace silently, his hands folded in his lap.  
She came towards him, and he looked up at her, his jet black eyes glittering strangely as if they were made of liquid onyx. If she hadn't known any better, she would have thought he had been crying.

But that couldn't be.

"Severus?" she whispered, and he looked away from her abruptly.

"How can you even look at me the same way?" Severus asked shortly, staring into the fire once more.

Hermione sat down next to him on the couch, and not another word was said, yet his presence seemed to be enough that words weren't needed.

Yet that nagging feeling of unease tugged at the bottom of her stomach, refusing to let her ignore it.

/

Silently, Severus Accioed a throw, and wrapped it around Hermione's naked, shivering form.

God, what had he done? The damage that this ordeal could have on her would be permanent, and, what if, Merlin forbid, she never wanted him to touch her ever again?

He wouldn't blame her for an instant.

Severus scowled darkly into the fire. The reason he first started to spy for the side of the light was for Lily…a mere memory now, and he loved her, yes, he loved her, he always had, but—

Hermione was here, now. Hermione, who reciprocated his feelings. Hermione, who was so gentle, and kind, and intelligent, and brave…

Lily was his first and very few of his true friends, and he loved her for that, for being able to see the good in him, the other sides of him that no one had ever seen before. But in the end, it was all a waste, and she threw it back in his face. He understood what he said was wrong, but—

Hermione…Hermione was much more forgiving than Lily. If it had been Lily who had been underneath him, crying, begging him to stop, please, just stop, she would have never forgiven him.

Severus tried to imagine Lily in that way, but he never could…the love he had for her had been the love of a friend, pure, and true…and it always would be.  
Hermione…

Oh Merlin, the lust he had for Hermione burned like liquid fire in his veins, and he had never before felt so passionate about a single person as he had for her. His motives for spying seemed to have changed—

It was to keep Hermione safe, and to give her a brighter future.

/

When Hermione woke up, she was alone in the bed.

Light filtered in from the small window in the bed chambers, and she squinted as her eyes adjusted to sun. She could hear the scratch of quill against parchment in the other room.

Scenes from the night before ran through her tortured mind, and a single tear dripped down her face.

God, she had to get away, help Harry and Ron, and leave Severus.

She cared about him deeply, but the night's events traumatized her, no matter how much she told herself that he had to do it, that he wasn't really that callous and cruel.

The scratching stopped after a few moments, and Hermione peeked through the crack in the door to be greeted with the sight of Severus asleep on the couch, a book and a roll of parchment beside him.

The main door that led to his office was slightly ajar, and Hermione took a deep breath.

She could do this.

Severus mumbled something under his breath, and Hermione tiptoed past him, and through the doorway. She breathed a sigh of relief, and stiffened when she heard movement.

She had to get out of here now.

She cast a simple glamour on herself, and proceeded to escape. She didn't need the risk of anyone recognizing her.

How she made it out of Hogwarts without getting stopped, she didn't know, but finally she reached the Forbidden Forest. She didn't know where she was going; she just needed to get away.

There was a rush of wind behind her, and she snapped her head back to see Severus, his robes swirling around him majestically, a sight that would have made her almost swoon before, but now filled her with dread.

"Stay away," she hissed angrily, and then broke for a run, throwing a spell behind her to deter him from pursuing her.

She saw him block the curse she threw at him; she didn't even recall what spell she cast, she just needed to get away.

Suddenly he was in front of her, blocking her way, and Hermione gave a cry of frustration and fell to her knees in front of him.

"Please," she begged, "Please, let me go. I can't do that again, not in front of them."

To her shock, he lowered himself until he was on his knees before her, and sat back on his heels, his robes pooled around him on the forest ground.

Tentatively, he reached a hand up and brushed the hair out of her face, a gesture he had done so many times before…and a flicker of warmth spread through her.  
Maybe she wasn't broken after all.

She choked back a sob as his arms slipped around her protectively.

"Come. It's getting chilly, you'll catch a cold." With that, he lifted her up with seemingly no effort and set her on the ground. Her legs wobbled, she was cold, and hungry, and frightened…but she followed him back to Hogwarts, trusting him implicitly.

They made it back to his rooms. She sat down on the bed, and she could feel him staring down at her shaking form.

"Let me draw you a bath," he murmured, and Hermione nodded slowly. He retreated back to the washroom and she could hear the bath fill with water. After a few moments, he returned, and she stepped into the washroom, steam fogging her view.

She heard a whispered spell and her clothes vanished; she stepped into the bath tentatively, letting out a sigh as she sank into the warm, scented water.

"Lilies?" she asked, as the scent filled her senses, and she heard Severus clear his throat uncomfortably.

"Yes. Lean back," Severus said, and she did as he bade. Soon after that, she felt a warm cloth on her back, soothingly rubbing up and down.

"Severus…" she yawned, as he continued to wash her, his eyes focused and intent on the task. "This is a rather large bathtub, why don't you…why don't you join me?"

"Join—"

Severus stopped washing her, and for an instant she had thought she had angered him; he always smelled so good, so he must bathe, although she had never seen him take a bath. But his hair was always so greasy…oh well. It didn't matter.

There was a rustle of clothes, and Hermione's eyes snapped open and widened as he slipped into the bath with her, his pallid body hairless save for the tantalizing trail of fur that led down to his reddened arousal. In all of their encounters together, she had rarely ever seen him completely naked, and although he wasn't overly muscular, he was lean, and she could see the corded muscles run down his arms. His body was aging, yet it didn't matter to her…none of that mattered.

"I don't want you to resent me," he murmured, and she shivered in anticipation as his lips moved against the sensitive skin of her throat. "You are mine. They can't have you. They won't touch you; they won't hurt you ever again."

She didn't know why she said it, but something came over her, and she blurted out the words before she could stop herself. "And you are mine. They can't have you, either. I won't let them."

"Hmmm," he hummed against her rosy skin, "And now that you have me, what are you going to do with me?"

She blushed, and reached a finger down to run it up his length, the other hand reaching down to fondle his sac, and he arched into her hand with a purr. She could feel it throbbing in her hand, and she was amazed that, after all this time, he still wanted her…yet she wanted him just as much as she had the first time she realized her attraction to him. This lust, this passion…it was like a permanent fixture in her life, now. She could barely even remember a time when she didn't want him.

/

Severus could taste her sweet skin, the lilac soap and her natural scent mixing together to create something addictive and irresistible.

As she touched him, she lowered her lashes demurely, and he felt an insistent throb of perverse pleasure as he was reminded of her youth. It was his, all his, her innocence, her everything…it was all his.

She was older now, but still a teenager, just a child…he was still twisted and perverted for desiring her as much as he did.

She gave a little sigh as she leaned closer into him, beads of moisture pearling on her body like glittering gemstones. She opened her eyes to stare into his, and he came, spilling his essence into the bath water with a grunt of relief.

/

Severus was in the Headmasters office when he arrived.

He flitted through her senses as if he were a dream, effortlessly passing through the spells that warded Severus' chambers almost as if he knew all the secret passwords.

That didn't make sense, even though Severus and Malfoy were best friends; Severus was too private, too isolated.

"What are you doing here?" she spat.

"I can see why Severus likes you so much," Lucius purred, his hands running up Hermione's arms and leaving goose bumps behind. "You're a feisty little minx, aren't you?"

Hermione ripped herself from his grasp and broke for a run, but there was nowhere to go, nowhere to hide…Lucius was here, now, and she couldn't find her wand, oh god, where was it?

Lucius chuckled darkly and grabbed her as she flung herself past him. She panted as she glared up at him rebelliously.

"The Dark Lord won't be pleased," Hermione said, trying to shake Lucius off of her. Lucius let out a bark of laughter.

"I really am past the point of caring what the Dark Lord thinks about this," Lucius answered, "since I am apparently no longer in his good graces. What do I have to lose?"

"What about your wife?"

"Oh, she won't mind," he said with a smile that chilled her to the bone.

"SEVERUS!" Hermione screamed, before Lucius clapped a hand over her mouth. She bit as hard as she could, and he loosened his grip on her with a curse.  
She took the opportunity to try and escape, bursting through the door of the bedchambers and running towards the door on the opposite side of the living room.

Lucius didn't run after her, instead, he calmly followed her into the room and surveyed her. She felt like a trapped animal.

"Good try, my little Mudblood whore," he said, stepping closer to her.

She hissed in disdain. "Not yours."

"Oho!" He laughed again. "I suppose you imagine that you and Severus are soul mates, meant to be together. Well, I hate to be the bearer of, hmm, bad news, but he doesn't love you."

Don't listen to him don't listen to him don't listen to him 

"I never thought he did," she answered. Her heart felt like a flower that was just beginning to blossom, and wilted before it had a chance to grow.

"Do you want to know what he is really like? He is a Death Eater, after all. You aren't the only young girl he's seduced and played with. Though how he does it, I'll never know. He's not the most handsome man…"

"You'll never be like him," she sneered, the facial expression so Snape-like that she shocked herself. "He's a better man than you."

"Do you really think so?" Lucius whispered, so close to her now that she could feel his breath upon her lips. "Or do you have your doubts? He's a murdering rapist, you naïve little girl. And I wonder," he continued, "how old you were when he first started to look at you with lust in his eyes. How old were you?"

You are...very pretty.

He had said that, so long ago, it seemed. Her fourth year, when she was so young, so innocent…what if he desired her before then? What if—

She felt nauseous. Lucius' eyes lit up in triumph.

"Ah, yes, you understand now. He's a sick, sick man, Granger. He has always liked younger girls. Why, I remember when we were in school, he followed that Mud Blood Lily Evans around like a pathetic puppy dog. She died when she was twenty years old, I believe? He never got over it. I know Severus better than you do. I know Severus better than he knows himself. He tries to be so mysterious and private, but little does he know…I am not a stupid man. I am not as self absorbed as people seem to think."

Hermione swallowed nervously as these revelations came out of the shadows and into the light.

Lily Evans? Harry's mother?

"I'm trying to free you," Lucius murmured. "You may be a Muggle-Born, but even Mudbloods don't deserve this."

"Why are you helping me?" she said, her voice cracking with the effort not to cry.

"There will be something in it for me, of course," Lucius said haughtily, "I'm not doing this for free. If you can fuck Severus Snape, surely you can do the same for a more attractive man."

No…Lucius wasn't self absorbed at all.

"Never," she spat, trying to twist her way around him again.

/

Severus was sending an owl when he felt Hermione.

Panic ebbed through him, but it wasn't his own. It was Hermione's. Something was very wrong.

He thanked Merlin with all his heart that he cast that spell on her, the spell that linked her mind with his. She couldn't know that he did it, but he had never felt more grateful than he did now.

He swept from the Owlery and down to his dungeon chamber, where the door was ajar and he could hear voices. He sighed inwardly. Will this never end?

He opened the door wider, and saw Lucius cornering his Hermione, running his hands up her arms. Possessive fury filled him. How dare he?

He stepped into the room, and Lucius turned to him with a smile.

"Ah, Severus, my old friend! How nice of you to join us!"

Hermione looked at him, but there was fear in her eyes. The fear was not directed towards Lucius, but towards Severus. 

/

Hermione's heart jumped to her throat when she saw Snape. It wasn't a good feeling at all. She swallowed again nervously, and looked down at her feet.

"What are you doing here?" Snape growled as he advanced on Lucius and Hermione. Lucius turned towards him with a sigh.

"I'm giving the girl a better offer than you can give her. Go find yourself another child to entertain yourself with. I hear that Weasley girl is a handful in bed—"

Hermione heard bones cracking, and jerked her head up to see Lucius clutching his nose, blood running down his face.

"YOU—YOU—"  
Snape rubbed his knuckles, and drew his wand out. "I would hate to have to do this, Lucius."

"What are you going to do, coward? I have nothing left to lose."

Snape didn't answer. Lucius grabbed Hermione with his unoccupied hand and edged towards the fireplace. Hermione felt herself being ripped from Lucius' grasp, and black-clad arms wrapped themselves protectively around her. It was strange, because usually those arms made her feel warm instead of this distant chill that frosted over her nerves and bones.

Lucius stomped over to the fireplace, and disappeared in the flames with a departing glare, still clutching his nose.

Snape released his hold on her.

"I'm glad you're safe," he murmured, stroking her hair back like he always did, but she jerked away from him.

"Please don't touch me," she whispered.

"What did he tell you?" he demanded, rage building up in his voice again. Hermione looked up at him.

"Nothing. Just—"

"I know he told you something!" Snape yelled, and Hermione's eyes widened. Snape was always so controlled; it was unnerving to see him lose his temper.

"I know it's not true," she muttered. "He was just trying to get to me. He said—he said I wasn't the only young girl you've…and he told me about how you followed around Harry's mum when you were in school—"

Hermione jumped as she heard breaking glass. She stared at the shards of broken glass that lay on the rug in front of the fireplace.

/

Severus was so angry that he could taste the fire that welled up in his veins. It burned his tongue and throat, and as soon as he heard what Hermione had to say, he threw the nearest object at the fireplace.

The glass hit the hard brick with a resounding crash.

"No." He stepped towards Hermione again. "No, that's not true."

"Which parts?" Hermione whimpered, her brown, doe-like eyes wide with fear and uncertainty.

Severus chose not to answer. Instead, he sat down on the couch, exhaling a long breath as he did so.

Hermione sat next to him hesitantly, and he gazed at her silently. He wanted to say so many things—I'm sorry for putting you through this, I'm sorry for taking your innocence and condemning you to a life like THIS—but no words escaped his lips.

"I'm not going to leave," Hermione said stubbornly, and Severus chuckled darkly.

"You think you have a choice? Nowhere is safe, not even here." I can't keep you safe.

"I feel safe. With you," she murmured, but Severus could still detect a hint of wariness in her voice.

She seemed to have realized that he had noticed her fear, for she leaned up to kiss him, and he opened his mouth against hers. Her lips were so soft, like rose petals, and her tongue was silky sweet. He moved his tongue against hers, licking at it as if it were covered in sugar. She sighed into his mouth and he felt the pulsing heat of desire surge within him.

Life was never going to be the same again, he surmised. Times were more dangerous, and they were both in peril. They were doomed anyway.

How could he resist her at a time like this?

/

/  
Thus the Serpent Said  
/

"Trust me."

Trust me…

Those words were so easy to say, but not as easy to believe and to follow.

"Relax."

Again, so easy to say, but Hermione's nerves were thrumming with tension and anticipation as Severus bound her hands above her head and rested them on the pillow. She couldn't see him; she could only feel the silk blindfold caress her sensitive skin, could only feel him, and his breath lightly breezing over the side of her face. Fingers ran down the exposed flesh of her chest, and she sighed as he took a nipple into his mouth and sucked. She struggled against the silk that entrapped her, wanting to touch him, to bring him pleasure as well, but his husky whisper made her stop.

"Shh. I know what you want. And you will have it soon enough."

She whined high in her throat as she felt him lift himself off of the bed, but soon, she could feel him over her once more. This time his warm flesh made contact with her, and her insides heated up at the fact that he wasn't wearing any clothes.

His erection, hot and heavy against her leg, finally prodded her entrance, and she opened her legs with a sigh of relief as she was filled and stretched to accommodate his girth. He was inside of her, filling her up with his essence, filling her up with a part of him.

"Severus," she murmured, and then gasped as the blindfold was ripped off of her in a fit of passion. She stared up into Severus' black midnight eyes, and the heat that burned in her belly rose higher at the look in his eyes, the unbridled lust and desire that he felt for her.

Well, at least, she hoped it was for her. Her heart fell a little bit when she thought about what Lucius Malfoy had said a few days ago.

She still felt a bit uneasy around Severus, although she wouldn't admit it to anyone. The thought that he might have desired her before she was in her fifth year made her a little queasy, and she tried not to think about it. And Harry's mother…

Hermione would never flatter herself into thinking that she knew a lot about Severus; in fact, she knew very little about him. He was not a man who stated what was on his mind very often, and when he did, it was often to criticize or belittle Gryffindors.

Hermione bit her lip, and squeezed her eyes shut.

"No. Keep your eyes open," Severus ordered, and Hermione obeyed, opening her eyes once more.

His gaze was so intense that she could feel herself flinching from his stare, and she averted her eyes quickly lest he use Legilimency to see what was truly on her mind.  
He grasped her chin firmly after she had turned her head from him, and made her stare into his eyes again.

"What's wrong?"

Hermione masked her discomfort with a breathy moan as he hit a sweet spot inside of her, and abruptly Severus was distracted their lovemaking. He pounded into her harder, harder, faster; he was in so deep that she could almost taste him on her tongue.

She swallowed her cries as he spilled inside of her, but she was so distracted by the millions of thoughts rushing through her head that she did not come.  
She waited with baited breath, knowing that Severus would say something—

"You didn't orgasm," he stated, pulling out of her gently. Hermione stuttered.

"Well, you see, and I—but!"

"Enough," Severus snapped impatiently. "What is worrying you so much that you can't even enjoy this?"

"You'll find out anyway, I suppose," Hermione grumbled, and Severus recoiled as if slapped.

"You think that I would betray your trust by using Legilimency on you." He said the words calmly, and Hermione could detect hurt and disappointment in his deep voice.

"I—"

But she couldn't deny it…that is what she thought Severus would have done.

She waited for Severus to storm out of the room in a flurry of anger, but that moment never came. Instead, he slid down her body to stare between her legs, and at what was surely a mess down there.

"What are you doing?" she asked, gasping as she felt his soft breath soothe her heated flesh.

"I'm going to make you come," he whispered, and she shivered at the promise.

Severus inhaled deeply, and she wondered absentmindedly what she must taste like, since he came inside of her a few moments before. Maybe it wasn't that bad…she loved the way Severus tasted; like thick, salted honey poured slowly over her face and body and down her throat…

"Mmm," Severus moaned against Hermione's wet flesh, dragging his tongue over her wetness slowly. "I love your sweet little…Merlin, open wider for me, Hermione..."  
Well, that answered that question, Hermione thought, right before she melted into the sensations of everything he was doing to her.

Hermione strained against her bonds, arching her back with a cry as he cruelly lashed his tongue over the little bundle of nerves that stood erect and rosy from her sex. Severus lazily sucked her clit into his mouth as she begged for release, her thighs trembling as he suckled on her. The sounds he made as he was doing that to her were enough to make her blush…wet, obscene slurping noises accompanied by groans and murmurs of words that she couldn't quite make out.  
She should have been used to it by now, since it was hardly the first time he had done this to her, but each time felt completely different from the last, though she didn't know how.

Severus whispered something, and then suddenly her bonds slithered away from her wrists. She flexed her hands as he continued to lick at her.

She could feel the pressure building in her belly and she ran her fingers through Severus' hair. He seemed to enjoy her touch immensely, for he practically purred against her as he continued his ministrations. She continued to stroke through the greasy strands, strands that tangled easily as she combed through them.  
"Severus," she murmured, and he growled low in his throat and captured her clitoris in between his lips once more.

"Severus, Severus, Severus…Severus!" His name became a sacred mantra that she repeated over and over again as he pleasured her. Finally, she reached the peak of her passion and desire, and plummeted over the edge, clutching his head between her thighs tightly.

"Hmm," Severus hummed under his breath as he lifted himself from between her legs, gently moving her feet from their dormant position on his back. "Splendid. I never do get tired of seeing that."

"Seeing what?" Hermione yawned. Severus reclined on the bed and pulled her to her side so she was facing him.

"Seeing you, in the 'throes of passion,'" he murmured, and she smiled.

"I don't see why you like it," she countered. Severus lifted a single brow sardonically.

"And, pray tell, what do you see in me? I'm not exactly a Casanova," he said darkly, and she shushed him with a peck on the lips.

"There is a lot I like about you, and you know it. And for the record, I find you quite attractive. Not in the conventional sense, but you are handsome."

Severus snorted, and shook his head. A few oily strands of hair fell on his face, and Hermione brushed them aside, reminiscent of how often he pushed her hair back from her face to see her eyes.

"Severus."

"Yes?"

"You're insufferable."

Severus chuckled deep in his chest. "Go to bed. I have a long day ahead of me tomorrow," he said. Hermione smiled and snuggled up closer to him, relishing the feeling of his arms enclosing themselves around her.

This was how it should be.

She felt safe with him.

She did.

Didn't she?

/

"Severus."

Severus gazed at the Dark Lord solemnly. "Yes, My Lord?"

"I have another task for you. I wish it to be fulfilled soon."

Severus bowed his head. "Of course, My Lord. What is it you wish me to do?"

"I need to find Harry Potter, and that girl must know where he was heading to. Find out where he is using the Mudblood girl. And if she won't divulge the information I need…bring her to me."

The pit of Severus' stomach seemed to drop, but he nodded his head and said, "Yes. I promise you, it will be done."

/

"Hermione."

Hermione lifted her head up from the book she was reading to stare into Severus' midnight eyes. She bit back a sigh as he ran his hand up her clothed leg, and her head fell back onto the couch.

"More," she said, and squirmed a little when he stopped. "Please."

"You have to give a little to get a little, my dear," he murmured, close to her ear, and her eyes fluttered closed at the sound of his velvet voice.

That was strange. Something wasn't right; he never asked for anything in return before, not really.

"What?" she asked breathlessly.

"I need to know something," he purred, "and you're going to tell me, aren't you? If you want me to do this—"

He unzipped the sweater she was wearing, baring her breasts to him. He cupped them in his warm hands, and she arched into his touch.

"—and this—"

Severus left a trail of wet kisses down quivering belly, and she gasped; the frustration building up inside of her was enough to make her cry out.

"Yes, please, keep doing that…wait…what do you want to know?" The fog cleared a little as her rational self took over for the passionate side of her.

"I need to know where Harry Potter is," Severus whispered before he took a rosy nipple in his mouth and sucked lightly.

"What? No—why? No!" She shoved Severus away from her and scrambled off of the couch hurriedly. Hermione let out a strangled cry as he caught her leg and pulled her towards him, and she fell with a thud to the floor. Severus crawled over Hermione's prone form and caged her underneath his larger body.

"Let—me—GO!" She pushed up at him to get him to leave her be, but he seemed to be made of stone.

"Tell me," he said, dropping his hand down to pinch one of her nipples viciously.

"No, no, I can't, leave me alone you—you traitor!"

Severus paused, releasing her breast and staring down at her with a blank expression on his pallid face.

/

Severus observed Hermione, her slack mouth and heaving chest, and felt warmth and so much emotion towards her, so much that it frightened him. He didn't want to do this…but he needed to find Potter so that he could tell, or show him, what he needed to.

That was what Dumbledore wanted him to do.

It was what Lily would have wanted, and what would benefit Hermione's future.

He wanted nothing more than a bright future for her, and he knew that she was capable of so much. Whether that future was with him or not was unimportant, although he felt a stab of poisonous jealousy of the thought of Hermione with any other man.

As he twisted one of her nipples between his fingers, he felt sickened by what he was doing to her.

Yet, perversely enough, it was also satisfying in some sort of way…to have her begging for mercy, begging for him, seeing all of her passion, her anger…  
Hermione was his.

His heart beat a little faster, and he gazed down at her silently as fury clouded over her delicate features.

"Get off of me, you bastard," she hissed, and Severus bore down on her until their noses were touching. The seductive approach was quite a better idea than the more violent one, he surmised. He let his eyes drift down to look at her rose-petal lips. Her lips were parted, and her breath, hot and heavy and angry, was gusting out sharply.

/

"I'm sorry," his voice rumbled deep in his chest, "I just have to know. If I don't find out…the Dark Lord will ask for me to bring you to him, and he'll torture you. Or worse."

"Let him," Hermione shot back, and Severus lifted himself off of Hermione with a sneer. Hermione stood up as well, standing on her tip toes in order to stare up at his tall form, and even then, she had to look up.

"I see. So you will let the Death Eaters do Merlin knows what to you, in order to protect your egotistical hero?"

"He's not egotistical!" Hermione snarled, watching Severus' eyes light up with a different kind of fire than the passionate one from earlier.

"You—you would defend him, after all we've—"

"All we've what, Severus? Do you really think I want to be here with you?" she said spitefully. She could see that her words were hurting him, but she couldn't stop…the adrenaline rush and the pent up anger forced its way out of her like a tsunami. "I'm your prisoner, for Merlin's sake! I want to be there with Harry, and Ron—"  
Hermione took a deep breath, and paused. Severus' face was stony, and he was silent, his eyes no longer holding the angry fire; instead, they seemed to be iced over, and she shivered as she gazed into them.

Hermione turned away, unable to look into those cold eyes any longer. When Severus spoke next, his voice was frosty like winter.

"You ungrateful child. After all I have done for you, to protect you, to keep you safe from harm…this is how you repay me? Do you know what Death Eaters do to Muggle-Born witches?"

"Why don't you say it then, Severus? Call me what all your friends call me," Hermione demanded. It was too late to back out of this fight now, and she would hold her ground for as long as she could. "I'm just a filthy Mud Blood, after all. I'm dirt."

Severus was silent. Hermione glanced down to see his hands clenched into fists, and they seemed to be shaking slightly.

"Come on. I know that's what you really think of me," she spat, and she heard his sharp intake of breath.

"You know nothing," Severus hissed, and Hermione stumbled back slightly at the venom that tinged his silky voice. He turned, and his cloak swept over her bare feet as he stalked out of the room and slammed the door behind him.

Hermione let out a shaky breath, her heart pounding loud and fast in her ears.

/

Severus stalked down the corridor menacingly. He passed a few students on the way, one being that insufferable McClaggen boy who seemed to have been so fond of Hermione. He was pawing a 6th year Ravenclaw girl in a darkened corner, and Severus stormed over towards them.

Severus cleared his throat audibly, and McClaggen froze, looking over his shoulder with wide eyes.

"Get to the Gryffindor Common room now, McClaggen," Severus barked, and as McClaggen moved away from the Ravenclaw, Severus averted his eyes. She was in nothing but her bra, stockings, and skirt.

The girl jumped as Severus leaned down, and he snorted under his breath as he picked up her robes and handed them to her.

"I suggest you find better company to surround yourself with, Miss Yearwood," he said, and the girl nodded.

"Yes, Professor—Headmaster," she stuttered, and Severus sighed and walked on.

"Professor Snape!"

Severus halted his footsteps and turned around slowly to acknowledge Pansy Parkinson. Really, he couldn't stand the chit, and if it wasn't for her being a Slytherin, she would probably have been one of his least favorite students. Even though she did get good marks on her Potions and Defense Against the Dark Arts classes, he reasoned.

"Miss Parkinson," he nodded slightly. "What is it you need?"

Parkinson giggled breathily, and it was an obnoxious sound.

"Can I talk to you about something privately?"

"I really don't have a lot of time, Miss Parkinson. My duties as Headmaster—"

"Are surely not that important, since you seem to find time to fuck Hermione—Mudblood—Granger, pardon my French."

Severus drew a deep breath. "You dare to talk to me in such a brazen fashion? I am—"

"A Death Eater, like Draco. And a lot of my family," Parkinson interrupted rudely. "I know just the kind of person you are."

"What do you want?" Severus snapped, glaring down at her in the most intimidating way he could. He towered above her, but she didn't even blink.

"I just want to try something," Parkinson said. "It's harmless, really."

"And if I say no?" he demanded. Parkinson let out another shrill giggle, and he had to stop himself from strangling her.

"Then I tell all of the school about what you have hidden in your chambers, Professor," she said.

"I am sorry to disappoint you, Miss Parkinson," Severus replied, even though he wasn't sorry at all, "but I am one of the Dark Lord's favored Death Eaters. Even if you do that, nothing would happen to me. The Ministry of Magic is being controlled by the Death Eaters, and nothing you say can get me in trouble."

"I'm sure if enough parents complain—"

"And you think they did not complain about me before? I murdered Albus Dumbledore," he hissed, trying not to raise his voice although he and Parkinson were the only ones in the corridor now.

"I know," Parkinson said nonchalantly. Severus felt sickened, and just a little bit of pity for this foolish girl, who had obviously grown up in an environment that was strictly Pureblood.

"What do you want, exactly? I have work to do."

"I wanted to um, well, play with her a bit," Parkinson whispered. "But if you don't want to let me, I understand. She's your property, after all. I wouldn't mind playing with you either, Professor. Or maybe you can watch us…I think you'd like that, wouldn't you, Professor Snape?"

The insinuations were not subtle at all, and Severus had to restrain himself from slapping the girl across the face for even suggesting anything of the sort. Instead, he continued to glare down at her, and the smirk she wore on her face wavered a bit.

"I'm afraid that's not possible, Miss Parkinson," he said softly, and Parkinson backed down a bit. He watched as angry tears welled up in her eyes; whether they were crocodile tears, or sincere, he could not tell.

"I just…I don't have Draco anymore. And I don't want him anyway," Parkinson sniffled. "Can't you make an exception, Professor? I promise I'll make it worth your while. I can make you feel things she never made you feel. Just give me a chance, please."

Severus felt himself seething again, and he drew in a shaky breath to stop himself from cursing her. "Don't try to comprehend things that you obviously don't, Parkinson," he snapped, and with a final parting glare, he swept off towards the Headmaster's office, leaving Parkinson to choke on her own sobs.

"Wait—"

Severus kept walking, shaking his head and cursing under his breath.

As Severus stepped into his office, he was immediately greeted by a familiar voice.

Would this never end?

"Severus," the Dark Lord's voice called from the fireplace. "Have you completed your task yet?"

"My Lord, she proves to be most difficult when it comes to finding Harry Potter. I assure you that I will secure the information soon."

"See that you do, Severus. Actually…"

Mumbles of other voices came from the fireplace.

Severus waited; dread pooling in the pit of his stomach. He didn't even realize he was holding his breath until the Dark Lord spoke again.

"Bring her here, Severus. Tonight. We will get what we need from her."

"Yes, My Lord."

The fire went out abruptly.

Merlin, this was exactly the sort of thing he was trying to protect Hermione from! Severus raked a hand through his hair in exasperation, and, making sure that no one was listening in, he made his way over to Dumbledore's portrait.

"Albus."

Albus snored lightly, mumbling under his breath.

"I need your help. Please," Severus said quietly. He felt weak, having to ask a dead man for advice, but what other choice did he have now?

Albus' eyes slowly fluttered open and fixated on him.

"Ah! Severus, my boy! How goes it?"

Severus drew another deep breath, and then proceeded to tell Dumbledore his tale, leaving out some of the more private parts of his and Hermione's situation.

"Well, it would seem we have a problem, Severus," Albus twinkled. Severus glared at him. How could he twinkle at a time like this?

"I don't think you understand the gravity of the situation, Albus," Severus growled. Albus blinked.

"Of course I do, Severus. It would seem that you and Miss Granger are in quite a mess at the moment. You have no choice but to obey Voldemort's—"

"Don't say his name! He has a Tracker spell on his name."

"My dear boy, I'm a portrait. I'm certain I'm of no threat, anymore. You have to find Harry Potter, to relay the messages to him, so that he will know, when the time comes, that he must die. In order for Voldemort to truly be vanquished—"

"—the boy must die. " Severus finished. "I know this already, Albus. But what about…"

"Miss Granger? Her importance in this battle is an unexpected development. On the contrary, I knew almost from the beginning when the two of you fell in love."

"Fell in love? No, I don't…"

"Love her? Severus, I think you underestimate yourself and your capability to love. I believe you can love very much. Just look at Lily Evans. You loved her, didn't you?"

"I still do," Severus said stubbornly. Albus smiled gently.

"I know. Which is why you must find Harry. For the greater good, Severus."

"The greater good? Striving for the 'greater good' has only hurt the ones I care—"

Severus stopped.

"Care about? It's alright, Severus, you can say you care for Miss Granger. There is no one here to judge you."

"People will judge, regardless. That is why the less people who know, the better."

"And I agree with you, Severus. But Voldemort knows, and that puts Miss Granger in grave danger."

Severus sat down at the desk, putting his head in his hands. "I did that. I put her in danger. I only meant to protect her. It's Lily, all over again."

"Don't blame yourself, Severus. You have gone your whole life blaming yourself for Miss Evan's death, when you did all you could to protect her. But there is something you can do to protect Miss Granger."

Severus lifted his head up and took a ragged breath. "What can I do?"

"There will be consequences for what you have to do," Albus said, "but I can see no other way to protect her from the wrath of Lord Voldemort. You, my friend, may not be so lucky. And it will be difficult to carry out, indeed."

"I will endure whatever I have to," Severus promised, gazing up at Dumbledore's portrait. "What is it you suggest I do?"

Albus paused, and peered behind his spectacles at Severus.

"You have to let her go."

/

Severus was sitting at the Headmaster's desk, his head still resting in the palms of his hands, when he heard the knock on the door.

"Severus."

Severus lifted his head up slowly. "Enter," he sighed, waving his wand at the door to open it.

Severus looked up to regard McGonagall standing beside a rather sullen looking Pansy Parkinson.

"Miss Parkinson seems to have decided that our dress code is no longer satisfactory," Minerva said peevishly, and Severus looked Parkinson up and down as discretely as he could. Her skirt was much shorter than what the dress code entailed, and he could see her black garters and fishnet stockings. He cleared his throat and gazed up at Parkinson's face, where her mouth, smeared with dark red lipstick, was twisted in a grimace. Her dark brown eyes were ringed with kohl, and he could tell that she was obviously trying very hard to impress someone.

She wasn't completely repugnant, he observed, although her personality and lack of morals ruined it all and gave her an ugly aura.

"I'll leave her here so you can deal with her," Minerva said, turning her heel and sweeping out of his office. Severus gazed up at Parkinson again; she was looking at the Headmasters portraits, but he had the distinct feeling that she was just trying to avoid his stare.

"What is the meaning of this, Miss Parkinson?" Severus asked, folding his hands in front of him and regarding her with what he considered was a passive stare.

"I…" she paused, and then started again. "I…er." She flipped her long brown hair over her shoulder and fiddled with the ends nervously. "I actually did it on purpose."  
He arched a single brow. "Really, now."

"Er. Yeah. I kind of feel bad for what I said earlier. I just wanted to put that out there."

Severus glanced at her attire once more. "And you thought that coming up to my office looking like this—"

"I was trying to impress you, okay? Merlin, I've only had a crush on you for years, and then I hear that you are actually interested in girls my age, and it's not me, it's that—the Granger girl. I'm sorry I called her a Mudblood."

Severus' other brow went up in disbelief.

"Okay, okay, so I'm not completely sorry," Parkinson said, the words rushing out of her. "I've never really liked her that much. I mean, I kind of feel sorry for her, I do. I just don't see what everybody else sees in her. I guess she's smart, and kind of pretty…"

Severus cleared his throat. Parkinson blushed.

"Anyway. I'm sorry, Professor. Guess I'll leave now," she said, and Severus watched as she lifted herself out of the chair slowly. He could tell that she was reluctant to leave, especially when she glanced back at him hastily and then looked away again. She walked out the door, and he couldn't help but glance briefly at the back of her short skirt.

He cleared his throat once more and shook his head.

What was this world coming to, when the Pansy Parkinsons of the world admit that they are wrong, and the Hermione Grangers desire him as if he were young and handsome?

/

Hermione lay in Severus' bed, fuming. How dare he?

Was this what all of this was about? Was the only reason he got close to her again was to find out where Harry was hiding?

She stared up at the ceiling sullenly as she heard the main door open with a click, and then close. Severus was back.

She grabbed her wand and waited for him to enter the bedchambers. She was so tempted to just curse him; maybe a stinging hex would do the trick…

Her heart hammered in her chest as she waited for the inevitable opening of the bedroom door.

Slowly it opened, and Severus stepped in the doorway, gazing at Hermione with an unreadable expression on his pallid face.

Hermione squealed as he rushed over to the bed and grabbed her arm. "There's no time to waste. Follow me, now."

"No!" Hermione said angrily, "You're just going to take me to You—Know—Who so he can torture me, I'm not going with you."

"No," Severus said desperately. "Just trust me. We have to go."

Hermione looked at him skeptically. "Where are we going?"

Severus gazed down at her, and she could see him swallow. "Somewhere where you will be safe."

Now it was Hermione's turn to be silent, and the silence seemed to eat up all of her hope. "Nowhere is safe," she said after a few moments.

"Yes, there is a place you will be safe, but I can't follow," Severus said.

"What?"

Hermione could feel Severus' despair, even though his face was expressionless.

"This life…it's not for you, Miss Granger. My life is dangerous, and I'm sorry for dragging you into it. I should have known better."

"Professor," she countered, "who is to know what is good for me? I chose this, I chose to be with you—"

"YOU DIDN'T CHOOSE IT!" Severus roared, and Hermione shrank back as his anger flared out and burned her alive. "I seduced you, when you were nothing but a child, a child, don't interrupt me!" he said sharply as she opened her mouth to speak. "I defiled you, when you were too young to know what you wanted. You still are too young to know what you want. And I kidnapped you, and brought you here, against your will…" Severus looked down at her, his nostrils flaring. "You wouldn't have chosen me. You would rather have been with your friends. That's where you should be."

"I—"

"Miss Granger." He clasped her hand in his larger ones, and she noted that they were clammy with cold sweat. "I'm sorry. There is nothing I can do to take back what I have done."

"You…you don't want me anymore?" she whispered, the reality of it all hitting her full force.

"I want you always, even though I shouldn't," he murmured, letting go of her hand to touch the side of her face gently. She shivered as his touch sent tingles bubbling under her skin. "That is why I'm doing this."

"But what if I don't want to leave?" she asked, forgetting her anger, forgetting her fear…

She only wanted him at that moment.

"No," she whispered, "don't leave me."

"I'm not leaving you," he rumbled, his deep, soft voice caressing her like the finest cashmere. "For now, we have to part ways."

"I don't know where Harry is," Hermione said. "The last time I saw him was at Malfoy Manor—"

"—where he and the rest of the captives escaped with a House Elf. No one has been able to track them," Severus said. "I'm taking you somewhere else."

"Where?" she asked, curiosity and fear mingling to create an entity of its own.

"I think you will know the place," Severus said. "Follow me. Wait, before we go…"

He waved his wand over her face, and she could feel it shift and change. She lifted her fingers to touch it, and her skin felt rubbery and different, somehow.

"There. A simple glamour, so you don't look like yourself. I will escort you up to my office, and we will go from there."

The walk up to the Headmaster's office was the longest of her life. She felt frightened, and suddenly lonely, even though Severus was still by her side.

"Stand behind me," Severus mumbled, as she saw a familiar figure stride up to them. Severus pushed Hermione to stand slightly behind him, and he towered in front of her.

"Minerva."

"Severus." She nodded, a frown staining her face. "It's late. What are you doing with—" she gazed over at Hermione, and her frown deepened. "—this girl…I don't recognize you, dear, and you seem to be a 6th year…"

"7th," Hermione said nervously, glancing up at Severus for help. "Um. I'm…a transfer student from…Beauxbatons."

"Funny," McGonagall said, "I received no warning of a new transfer student arriving at our school, and at such a late hour." Her eyes were catlike slits as she stared up at Severus once more. "And you have an enchantment on you, I can sense it."

Severus stiffened as Hermione flinched; McGonagall waved her wand over Hermione's face and body. She could feel the magic melt off of her, and she reached up to touch her face once more. Her stomach squirmed as if a million worms were inside of her. She looked like herself again.

McGonagall's jaw dropped. "Miss Granger?"

"Obliviate!" Severus flicked his wand at McGonagall, but she was quick to sense it; she blocked the spell that he threw at her with a look of disbelief on her face.

"What are you doing here?" McGonagall gasped, her hands reaching for Hermione. Hermione stepped back, almost reflexively grasping Severus' robes as security.

"Why—you murderous, treacherous—" McGonagall began, snarling at Severus.

"Minerva—" Severus interrupted, taking a step forward.

"Stop!" Hermione cried, shocked by her own daring. She walked closer to McGonagall so that she was side by side with Severus. Severus and McGonagall both stared at Hermione for her outburst, and now that she had their attention, she had no idea what to say…

"Stop fighting," Hermione said quietly. "I'm here because…"

"I know what this is," McGonagall said, interrupting Hermione impatiently and shaking her finger at Severus. "You are a sick, twisted man, Severus Snape. Just because you are a Death Eater," she spat the words out as if they were poison, "doesn't mean you get to just take advantage of a child, a Muggle-Born witch at that….Come with me, Hermione, dear, I'll get you somewhere safe."

"I'm not a child," Hermione stated stubbornly, feeling quite like a child just for saying the words. "I can make my own decisions. And I want to stay with him."

McGonagall's eyes widened in shock. "He's deluded you…don't believe what he's told you, Miss Granger, please…"

"Minerva!" Severus snapped, "you do realize that I have the authority and power to fire you, don't you?"

McGonagall's eyes flared and she stepped forward until she was invading Severus' personal space.

"Do what you will, you coward. But know that I have friends in high places. And Miss Granger isn't going with you."

"Miss Granger will go where she pleases," Severus hissed, and Minerva let out a barking laugh. What she was about to say next, Hermione never learned, for a blood curdling scream echoed through the corridor, and both McGonagall and Severus turned to look down the hallway.

Hermione turned as well. She saw nothing, but felt something brush up past her, something that went unnoticed by Severus and McGonagall.

She heard a whispered spell, and then suddenly McGonagall fell with a thud to the floor. Severus and Hermione glanced at McGonagall, and then looked to where she was standing just seconds before.

Hermione's eyes widened as she recognized Pansy Parkinson, who gave her an abrupt nod, and then turned to Severus.

"There. I helped," Pansy said gruffly. "Hope I didn't give the old bint a heart attack."

Severus seemed to be a loss for words, but he masked it by dropping down to examine McGonagall.

"She will be alright, I just have to take her to the infirmary," Severus announced quietly. Pansy nodded and glanced at Hermione.

"Granger. Long time no see," she said, with a slight smirk. Hermione nodded, unable to think of anything to say. How unexpected was this?

"Thank you," Severus said to Pansy, and Pansy rolled her eyes, which were caked with black eyeliner.

"I told you I was sorry, and I don't think you believed me. Consider this proof," Pansy said in reply. "People can change."

"Hmph," Severus snorted under his breath, and then waved his wand over McGonagall's prone form until she was floating in front of them.

"Let me go with you," Pansy said eagerly, and Hermione looked at her blushing face, and shining eyes, and felt a twinge of jealousy.

"I'm afraid that's not possible, Miss Parkinson," Severus said, and Pansy's face fell.

Hermione never liked Pansy Parkinson. She regarded her as a stuck up, bigoted, mean girl. But maybe Pansy was right…maybe people could change.  
Either that or she had an ulterior motive. Hermione was highly suspicious that Pansy's ulterior motive was, in fact…

Severus.

"Where are you going, anyway?" Pansy asked nosily, and Severus let out a long, drawn out sigh.

"We…were going to the Dark Lord," Severus said hesitantly. Hermione felt a stab of betrayal. So he really was going to take her to the Death Eaters…she shouldn't have trusted him. Merlin, why did she, when all he did was prove to her how untrustworthy he could be?

Or maybe…

Maybe he had to say that. Pansy was a Pureblood Slytherin, and probably had family members that were Death Eaters, and if they knew that Severus was in fact hiding Hermione, they would both be in grave danger.

Severus flicked his wand at Hermione next, and she felt her face rearrange itself again. "I was sloppy last time," he explained. "We have to take Minerva to the Infirmary, and then…"

He glanced at Pansy, and Hermione felt envy tug at the pit of her belly again.

"Then we have to depart."

Hermione and Pansy followed the two teachers as one stalked up the stairs and the other floated before them. Hermione glanced over at Pansy once more and then averted her eyes. Why exactly did Pansy help them?

There were so many burning questions she had, none of which would probably be answered, she surmised.

Hermione's heart was beating hard in beneath her breast, so hard that it threatened to shatter her chest.

The only thing she could do was move forward…

…and try to survive the trials that lay before her.

/

/  
Sepulchre by the Sea  
/

Hermione followed Severus, Pansy, and Mcgonagall's floating form as they all headed to the Infirmary. Severus glanced back at Hermione, and there was worry and sadness in his dark obsidian eyes.

When they finally reached the Infirmary, Severus halted in front of the doors and turned to face Hermione and Pansy.

"Stay out here, and try not to draw too much attention to yourselves," he murmured, but as he spoke the words, he stared into Hermione's eyes. Hermione smiled weakly.

"We'll be careful," she whispered, and Severus nodded briskly and opened the Infirmary doors.

Pansy scuffed her black shoes on the floor in the uncomfortable silence, and Hermione cleared her throat.

"Thank you, for…helping us…me, I mean."

"Yeah, didn't really do it for you," Pansy said abruptly. "Professor Snape is my favorite teacher, and I owe him a lot. He's…" she drifted off, and stared at the crack in the Infirmary doors longingly. Hermione felt a twinge of jealousy, accompanied by an even more startling pang of pity for this simple-minded girl.

/

Severus walked out of the Infirmary, a horrible uneasy feeling in the pit of his belly. What on earth had convinced him that it would be alright to let Pansy bloody Parkinson around Hermione Granger?

When he finally spotted the two girls, they were sitting together in the corridor, staring at Severus. Hermione had a weary look about her, as if she were exhausted. Pansy, on the contrary, looked alert and excited.

"So, what's going to happen now?" Hermione asked, her voice quiet. Pansy spoke up immediately.

"I want to stay with you two," she said, her eyes bright. Severus had never noticed her eyes before: they looked to be brown from a distance, but were a deep mossy green. A sharp pain stabbed through his heart. She didn't seem worthy enough to have eyes like that…eyes like Lily Evans…eyes like an angel…

/

Hermione glanced over at Pansy as she sat in Severus' chair, a slight smile on the Slytherin girl's face as she watched Hermione read. Hermione squirmed on the sofa and delved into her book once more.

The smile made her feel uneasy, not for the fact that it was mean spirited, because it wasn't. In fact, it was quite sincere, and happy, and it was something that Hermione had never seen directed at her before, at least not from Pansy Parkinson.

"Watcha reading?" Pansy asked, and Hermione sighed.

"A History of Hogwarts, by Bathilda Bagshot," Hermione answered quietly as Pansy nodded.

"Sooo…" Pansy began after Hermione started reading once more. "You and Professor Snape, huh?"

Hermione bit back a weary sigh. "Of a sort, yes…"

"What do you mean, of a sort? You're either together or not."

"Look, I apologize, Pansy, but I really don't want to talk about it right now," Hermione said, trying not to snap too much at the annoying girl.

"Hmmph," Pansy snorted, and Hermione discreetly rolled her eyes.

Severus opened the door to his quarters, and Hermione immediately set her book down and looked up at him expectantly.

"Professor McGonagall will be fine," he muttered. "She's a strong woman."

Hermione nodded wearily, sighing as Pansy stood up to straighten her short skirt.

Severus averted his eyes and Hermione seethed silently. Who knew she was that possessive over any man? Especially a teacher. Especially Severus Snape.

Hermione shook her head slowly and picked up her book once more.

"So, where do you sleep, Granger?" Pansy asked excitedly, as soon as Severus retreated to his private rooms. "In his bed?"

Hermione slammed the book shut and stood up. "Look, Pansy, I appreciate what you did for us, but-"

"Yeah, yeah, I get it. You don't want to tell me because you think I'm in cahoots with He Who Must Not Be Named. Or the Daily Prophet. OR the Ministry of Magic. Are there any other evils of the Wizarding World that I forgot to include?"

"Well, I think you pretty much covered it," Hermione mumbled.

"I'm sick of living life how it's expected of me," Pansy said, staring at her perfectly manicured hands and flexing her fingers. "I want to do something spontaneous and, well…kind of like a Gryffindor, I guess."

Hermione smiled weakly yet sincerely at the Slytherin girl, who half-smiled back at her.

"Professor Snape has been there for me when no one else was," Pansy continued. "I came to him when I had problems with Draco, I came to him for advice on a lot of things. I guess I kind of had a crush on him, you could say. He was the only person who never judged me, even though he's a right bastard sometimes."

Hermione giggled softly. "Yes, I agree on that."

"But seriously," Pansy said, "Grang-er, Hermione, you can talk to me. I know you probably don't want to, but-"

"Yeah, it's alright," Hermione said quietly. "I…I've been with him for so long, and I still feel like it's new, and fresh, and just as forbidden. Yet at the same time, it's old, and comforting, and constant…"

"What is? Your love?" Pansy elbowed Hermione and shot her a wicked smile. Hermione chuckled again.

"I don't know." She didn't want to admit to Pansy Parkinson of all people that she was in love with Severus Snape, bane of all Gryffindors…she still didn't trust the girl as far as she could throw Fluffy or Buckbeak.

"I thought I was in love, once," Pansy replied. "But he likes someone else. We are perfect for each other, though. We come from the same kind of upbringing, and he…well, sometimes he gets me."

"Draco," Hermione whispered. "It's Draco, isn't it?"

"I like Draco. He is cute, isn't he? His hair is so soft," Pansy mused, "but no. I like Blaise. Blaise Zabini? I found out he likes Tracey, and Draco is head over heels in love with Daphne Greengrass' sister Astoria."

"Hmmm," Hermione hummed under her breath, deep in thought. "I think you'll find someone. You have to stop looking for him, though. He'll come along when the time is right."

Pansy blinked, and stared at Hermione silently for a few moments. "Wow, you're really insightful. I had no idea, all these years. I just thought you were a know it all."  
Hermione smiled ironically. "I am."

Pansy poked Hermione in the arm lightly. "Give yourself more credit than that. You're young, but you're also one of the wisest people I've ever spoken to."

"Thanks," Hermione said. Pansy smiled brightly, then lifted herself up out of the big armchair.

"Now let's find Snape's Fire Whiskey, I know for a fact he has a stash in here," Pansy giggled, and Hermione pointed at the cabinet in the corner of the room. Pansy waved her wand at it, and as the cabinet opened, she pulled out a bottle and two tumblers.

Pansy popped open the bottle and took a swig.

"This calls for a celebration. To newfound friendship!" Pansy cried, spilling a little bit of the whiskey on her blouse. Hermione laughed long and hard, and Pansy followed suite, chorusing Hermione's laughter with her own giggling.

/

Hermione lifted herself out of the chair; Pansy was asleep on the couch. Hermione conjured a blanket for her and then headed towards Severus' bedchambers.  
She opened the door quietly, and perched on the edge of the bed as Severus closed the book he was reading and turned towards her.

"So, are you and our little Slytherin friend getting along?" he asked, yawning lightly and stretching his long legs.

"She's not that bad, actually," Hermione said. "I was surprised. By the way, she drank almost an entire bottle of Ogden's and a few shots of your whiskey."  
"Damn," Severus hissed, "oh well. I suppose I shouldn't get too angry about it."

Hermione sighed, and leaned back against the pillows. "It's nice having someone who is, well, I use the term loosely, a friend. I miss Harry and Ron and Ginny."  
"I know," Severus murmured.

Hermione glanced away from Severus abruptly, and she did not see how his onyx eyes shifted and narrowed.

/  
Severus knew he had to get Hermione to a safe haven before the Dark Lord asked for her again.

He could only stall the Dark Lord for so long, as well as the other Death Eaters. Now he had another young girl to look out for, and even though her family sided with the Death Eaters, as they were strictly Pure-Blood, she was still in danger. The Parkinson family was disgraced earlier that year, much like the Malfoy family, and Pansy was as vulnerable as Hermione in the War. Lucius, Bellatrix, Macnair…every Death Eater was deadly, and none could be trusted.

He had to keep Hermione safe. If that meant letting her go…

He wanted to keep her forever. Keep her locked away in his room like a songbird with clipped wings…but her song had become more melancholy, and Severus had noticed. She wasn't free to fly, and it pained him as much as the thought of her always there comforted him.

Severus glanced at Hermione's sleeping form. Her breath was rapid, and she tossed and turned in the bed. Severus swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat as he considered his options.

If he kept Hermione a somewhat willing prisoner…

The Death Eaters surely would do something repugnant to her.

If her let her go…

She would still be in danger, yet she would have a fighting chance, more of a chance than if she was with Severus and the Death Eaters. Severus had to keep his true status as Dumbledore's triple agent hidden, and if he was caught…

Severus groaned. Merlin, he didn't want to let her go, but maybe Dumbledore's portrait was right. Maybe it was for the best.

Severus got up out of the bed and paced the floor, before going into the living room of his quarters. Pansy was still asleep on the couch, her hair mussed and mouth hanging open. Severus smirked slightly at the sight before Flooing to the Headmaster's office.

"Phineas," Severus said frantically, "I need you to tell me where Potter and the Weasley boy are."

Phineas Nigellus cracked open one eye and sighed. "At this hour of the night?"

"It is urgent," Severus insisted. Phineas rolled his eyes.

"I overheard Potter talking to Weasley, they are at Shell Cottage."

"Shell Cottage…where the Veela girl and one of the Weasley boys live?"

"Yes, yes," Phineas said irritably. "Now let me get some sleep."

Dumbledore was watching Severus and Phineas with a twinkle in his eye.

"You have to make Miss Granger a Portkey," Dumbledore said, and Severus nodded briskly. "You need to make one that can only be activated once, and she cannot come back here, once she leaves."

"I know what I have to do, Albus," Severus said softly.

/

When Hermione woke up the next morning, Severus was gone, and someone was snoring obnoxiously in the living room. Hermione crawled out of bed and peeked through the door. Oh, right, it was Pansy. She had nearly forgotten all that had transpired over the night.

She heard the door open, and quickly she hopped back into bed. Severus was back, and he was carrying a black velvet box in his hand. Hermione dressed swiftly, pulling on a pair of jeans and a hoodie.

She heard Severus exchange words with Pansy, who woke up with a surly mumble. Pansy and Severus talked for a few moments, but Hermione couldn't make out what they were saying. To Hermione's shock and surprise, both Severus and Pansy entered the bedroom, Pansy's eyes sleepy yet mischievous as she saw Hermione laying in Severus' bed.

Pansy winked playfully, and Hermione blushed.

"I have something for you," Severus said, extending his arm out to set the velvet box into Hermione's hands. He closed her hands around it, and his fingers lingered over her flesh as he stared into her eyes.

"Thank you, Severus! What's the occasion?" Hermione asked, as she began to open the box.

 

"Wait," Severus said sharply. "Don't open it yet. There is something you need to hear. What I gave you is freedom, salvation. Do not come back for me."  
"What-" Hermione gasped, and then glanced back at Severus in accusation. "Is this a Portkey?"

"Open it, Hermione," Severus murmured, and Hermione felt compelled by that velvet honey voice once more. She opened the box, and stared at the beautiful necklace inside: it was on a delicate, long silver chain with a silver locket, and Hermione gasped, her fingers itching to touch it. The locket was engraved with the silhouette of a playful otter curled around a small blue sapphire.

"My Patronus…" Hermione whispered, then gazed at Severus. "How did you know?"

"Take Miss Parkinson with you," Severus said, averting his eyes and nodding at Pansy. "You will both be safe where you are going."

"Severus, Severus, what about you?"

Severus chuckled darkly. "I can handle myself. Now go!"

He glanced at Hermione. She stared at him, reaching for the necklace hesitantly.

She looked down at the necklace, then back at Severus. She dropped the box on the bed and wrapped her arms around him, soaking in his warmth and his heat, breathing his scent in deeply.

"I-be careful," Hermione said, and a tear trickled down her face.

She felt a single finger lift her chin up, and Severus captured her lips in an intoxicating, drug-like kiss. It could very well be the last kiss they ever shared. Hermione squeezed her eyes shut tightly as they parted, and she felt a hand rub her shoulder. She glanced next to her to see Pansy smiling sadly, and Hermione nodded to her.

"You ready?"

"Ready as you are," Pansy said, waving to Severus. Hermione quickly put the necklace around her neck, and Pansy lightly touched the otter charm.  
The last thing she saw were Severus' starry midnight eyes staring into her heart as she was whisked away.

/

Hermione and Pansy landed with a thud on the seashore, and Hermione got up first to take in their surroundings.

The ocean was a peaceful rumble, the waves gently crashing on the beach as Hermione padded barefoot in the sand.

"Who's there?" a familiar voice yelled, and Hermione turned around to face Harry Potter for the first time in months.

There was shocked silence, and Harry's emerald eyes widened.

"'Mione? Oh my god, Hermione!"

Hermione fell to her knees in the sand, and Harry knelt beside her, holding her as she sobbed.

"He knew…he knew where to send me…he knew you were here…"

"He?" Harry said, his voice laced with fear.

"My-Sev-er, never mind."

"Sev? As in Severus Snape?" Harry roared, standing up and looking quite impressive as waves collided on the beach. Hermione gazed up at him with her tear streaked face, and then glanced over at Pansy, who was sitting in the sand, still looking disoriented.

"We have to help Pansy," Hermione mumbled, and Harry offered Hermione his hand so she could stand up. Hermione made her way over to the Slytherin girl, who smiled up at Harry a bit too brightly.

"Hey, Potter, long time no see-ow!"

Pansy stretched her leg out; a sharp rock had embedded itself in her flesh. Hermione quickly grabbed her wand, and whispered a healing spell. "Where's my Dittany?"  
"It's in Shell Cottage, do you want me to get it?" Harry asked, and Hermione shook her head.

"We have to get Pansy inside," Hermione said. Harry nodded, and picked Pansy up, carrying her into the cottage.

Hermione followed them, and grabbed the Dittany. "Let me see your leg."

Pansy stretched her leg out again, and Hermione winced as she saw how deep the rock was embedded in her skin. Blood pooled around the rock, and when the pebble was removed, blood flowed down her leg like a crimson river. Hermione placed a few drops of Dittany on the wound, and watched as it became whole once more. She grabbed a nearby towel and wiped the blood off of Pansy's leg gently.

"Thanks, Granger," Pansy mumbled. Harry huffed impatiently.

"So do you mind telling me what Pansy Parkinson is doing with you, since she is associated with Death Eaters? And why did you mention Snape's name? If I ever, ever get my hands on him, they are going around his throat so I can-"

"Harry!"

"Potter!"

Pansy and Hermione snapped at the same time. Hermione toyed with the otter locket that hung around her neck, her eyes misting over a little as she thought about how Severus would have to face the Death Eaters alone, and tell Voldemort that Severus' little toy had escaped. Pansy would probably be searched for as well, since her family was a name as disgraced as the Malfoy's, as Pure-Blood as Pansy's blood may be. Especially now that she was in hiding with a known friend of the Chosen One, and a Muggle-Born to boot.

"How did you know I was here?" Harry asked. "We haven't been able to find any…you know…" he glanced at Pansy suspiciously before continuing, "and we've been looking for you more than those."

"I'm actually really tired right now, Harry," Hermione said quickly, "I promise I'll tell you the whole story after I take a nap. Where is everyone else, anyway?"

Fleur entered the kitchen, as if on cue, with Ron and Bill. Ron froze in his tracks.

"Hermione?"

Ron rushed at her, and before Hermione could do anything to stop him, he kissed her sloppily on the mouth, tongue dragging across her lips and leaving a trail of spittle on her flesh.

Hermione held her breath and clenched her hands into fists. Harry, Fleur, and Bill glanced at each other uncomfortably.

Hermione broke the kiss off, glaring at Ron angrily. "Not in the mood, Ron. Why don't you ask me how I am, like Harry did."

"Well, when the hell are you ever in the mood, Hermione? I know you love me, just admit it."

Hermione gritted her teeth and then calmly looked up at Ron. "Ron, I am not interested in you in that way. Go Floo Lavender Brown."

Ron's mouth dropped to his knees, and then Hermione heard a rustling, clattering sound of a chair being pushed back. Pansy stood up and faced Ron.

"Don't touch her again. She's your friend, and that's all she'll ever be. So leave her the bloody hell alone before I turn you into a weasel, Weasley."  
Now it was Hermione's turn to gape in shock.

"What is your problem, Hermione?" Ron said furiously, and Pansy interrupted him.

"She's in love with someone else, someone a hell of a lot more mature than you. So forget it!"

Hermione glanced at Harry as realization seemed to dawn on him, and she averted her eyes as Harry stared at her.

"I need to take a nap, there's been a lot of excitement today," Hermione said, and Pansy nodded in agreement. They followed Fleur up the stairs as the men of the house stared after them.

Hermione fell into the bed with a sigh. "Thanks for helping me," Hermione said to Pansy, and Pansy nodded.

"I can't stand Weasel, don't worry. If you ever want his nose broken, just let me know." With that being said, Pansy punched a fist into her palm.

"Thanks, Pansy," Hermione smiled weakly, and sighed, staring at the waves crashing along the seashore.

Hermione

Hermione

"Hermione."

Hermione fell back against his lean body, sighing as his hand ran up the contours of her curves. She smiled genuinely for the first time in what seemed like a long while, and let the sound of the waves lead her into paradise as Snape touched her. 

"Hmmm. Your responses are always so delightful," Severus murmured.

Hermione opened her eyes, expecting the sea to dissolve into a mere dream. She looked beside her; Severus was still there, staring deeply into her own honey brown eyes.

"What are you doing here?" Hermione hissed, standing up, then changing her mind and sitting down abruptly.

"Making sure you are safe. I see that you are," Severus said, his voice a low whisper, one she barely heard over the sound of the ocean.

"You have to go," Hermione croaked, her voice cracking with the effort to not cry.

Severus nodded briskly. "I am aware of the repercussions if I am discovered," he murmured, "but I wanted to see you one last time."

"One last time-what are you on about?"

Severus averted his gaze. "It is not important. What is essential is that you are safe from harm. They will never hurt you again."

"They? The Death Eaters?"

"Yes." Severus sighed deeply, then ushered her onto her back. The sand scratched up against her neck, but it wasn't completely unpleasant. In fact, it only heightened her senses. She could feel every spray of sea mist, every grain of sand, every touch that he branded into her over sensitized body. He licked with a long swipe of tongue up her throat, and she shuddered as his fingers inched lower and lower, dancing at her belly button and unbuttoning her jeans.

Hermione closed her eyes in rapture, then opened them again, not wanting to ever forget the sight of him like this, so raw and uninhibited, his nostrils flaring and black eyes burning holes into her very soul.

He waved his wand, and they were naked, entwined around each other in a symphony of touch, taste, sound, and want…

He entered her swiftly, and Hermione clutched his back, raking her nails down his bare back, relishing in the hissing sound he emitted.

Their sounds of lovemaking chorused on the beach, swallowed up by the sounds of the ocean. As Hermione toppled over the edge of pleasure with Severus, he kissed her.

The kiss lasted for years, it felt like…years of love, and cherish, and passion. His tongue mated with hers in a dance that battle for dominance, and Hermione succumbed as she always did, but she didn't feel weak or submissive. In fact, she felt powerful, and the power was intoxicating.

"Goodbye, Hermione," Severus breathed against her lips as he broke the kiss off. Hermione stared up at him.

"Goodbye for now, right?" Hermione asked, and Severus smiled sadly and with a crack, Apparated as a wave crashed over their bodies.

Hermione spluttered as salt water entered her mouth. She was drenched. How was she going to explain this to anyone in Shell Cottage? She grabbed her clothing and quickly dressed, sitting back down farther away from the water, and gulped as she felt tears threatening to spill down her rosy face.

/

/  
She Bleeds Like a Song  
/

Hermione walked silently into the cottage, wiping sea salt and tears from her face. The door creaked open, and Hermione halted. A part of her prayed that it was Pansy who was at the door, but her heart sank to the pit of her belly as she looked up into wide emerald green eyes.

"Hermione?" Harry whispered.

"I was taking a walk on the beach and-"

Hermione stopped as she saw Harry's eyes glint in the moonlight.

"You saw."

"I didn't see much," Harry said. "But enough."

Hermione thrust her hand up and combed her fingers through her ocean damp hair nervously. "I—there isn't anything I can say."

Harry closed his eyes. "I love you, H-Hermione," he stuttered awkwardly. "You're a sister to me. I just—I'm-I'm scared. He-"

"He's not who he seems to be," Hermione interrupted. "He's different, with me. Severus..."

Harry's eyes narrowed.

"Do you love him?"

Hermione's breath caught in her throat.

"Yes."

"You can't be with him, you know."

"It's like Romeo and Juliet," Hermione chuckled weakly, attempting to break the ice that was slowly melting between herself and her best friend.

"Come in, we'll sit by the fireplace and have a cup of tea. Ron's snoring upstairs and everyone else is asleep."

Hermione stepped into Shell Cottage, and sat down in one of the chairs by the fireplace. She cast a spell over the wood, and a warm fire gently started.  
She shivered despite the warmth of the flames.

Harry came back from the kitchen, and set two cups of tea down on the small end table in front of the chairs.

Hermione sipped her tea, drawing the cup back as she scalded her lips.

"So..."

"So." Hermione said.

"It will never happen, Hermione."

Hermione's head shot up. "It's already happened.

Harry sighed in a resigned manner. "I mean, I—I'll always be here for you, Hermione. No matter what happens. I just don't want to see you hurt. He's a Death Eater, he has a death sentence..."

Hermione knew good and well that Severus' days were numbered. She was by no means a foolish girl, but at the same time, she didn't want to think of it. Life without Severus...

It would devastate her.

"I have to search for the Horcruxes," Harry said. "With Pansy here, we can't talk about it. I have to go by myself. The locket is gone, but we have to find the rest of them. The Goblet of Hufflepuff, and Nagini...something of Ravenclaw's..."

"No, Harry," Hermione said. "You aren't doing this alone. The only way I can be with Severus is if the Dark Lord is defeated."

"But he's—He killed Dumbledore! He's on Voldemort's side!"

"I don't believe that," Hermione said adamantly. "There was a reason that he did what he did, and there is something more to his story." She didn't feel like divulging what Lucius had told her. It wasn't her business; it was Severus', and if Severus had been infatuated with Lily, it wasn't her right to tell Lily's only son.

"We have to get into Gringott's," Harry said. "Griphook is upstairs, along with Ollivander."

"I do have something," Hermione said, and reached into her jeans pocket. "Bellatrix's hair. I only have a few strands, but-"

"Brilliant!" Harry exclaimed. "First thing in the morning, we'll go to Gringotts."

Hermione smiled weakly. She felt remorse settle in her bones; she felt happy with her best friends, but—her home was with Severus.

/

As Hermione felt her skin bubble and her legs stretch as she gulped down the Polyjuice Potion, she shuddered. "Essence of Bellatrix. Urgh. Well, how do I look?"  
Harry and Ron shivered.

"Hideous," they both chorused, and Hermione smiled.

"Just what I wanted to hear."

Griphook the goblin, who was on Harry's back, whispered coarsely, "Put on your Invisibility Cloak, Mr. Potter. And it doesn't matter how she looks; it's if the goblins will fall for it or not."

Hermione felt dread and anxiety settle in her veins. She inhaled a great gulp of sea air, and then said, "I've been around Bellatrix enough. I can do this."

I can do this  
.  
Hermione patted the locket that hung around her chest; the Portkey that Severus had given her that was now useless. Yet, still, it held such value to her. It was as if a part of him was with her, and it gave her strength.

Hermione stumbled in Bellatrix's awkward heels and long, gangly legs as she climbed up the sand hill and grasped Harry and Ron's hands. Together, they Apparated to Diagon Alley, and Hermione started to tremble. She pressed her hands to the locket once more, and began to saunter in to Gringotts.

Death Eaters were guarding the door like vultures awaiting for a pick of her carcass. Hermione glared at them, and forgot, almost for a split second, that she was in Bellatrix's skin.

"Madame Lestrange," they mumbled, and moved aside. Ron, Hermione, and Harry and Griphook walked over to the main desk.

"I wish to open my vault," Hermione pronounced haughtily. The goblin sneered down at her.

"Yes, well—oh! Madame Lestrange! We...do need wand verification, if you could please be so...kind..."

Hermione's heart leapt to her throat. "I do not see any need for that," she snapped, and out of the corner of her eye, she could see movement in the air where Harry must have been. Suddenly, the goblin smiled kindly.

"Right this way, Madame Lestrange," the goblin simpered. Hermione's heart beat like a staccato note on a broken piano.

Suddenly, she heard a quite familiar voice echo in the quiet hall, and she turned; no, it couldnt' be!

Severus stood talking to the Death Eaters at the entrance of Gringotts, and his eyes narrowed slightly when he saw her. Hermione gulped nervously and turned, her heart feeling sour from ache.

Severus' boots made a clicking sound on the ground as he walked towards them, and Hermione could hear Harry's sharp intake of breath, and Ron's low growl.  
"Oh, why, Bella!" Severus said, his eyes scanning her face. Hermione averted her eyes and cocked her head down, and Ron jabbed her in the side inconspicuously. Severus' brow furrowed.

"What are you doing here?" he said smoothly, as Hermione veins jumped around underneath her skin at the sound of his voice. "I thought you were at the Manor."  
Hermione's eyes widened, and she cleared her throat. "I—what business is it of yours, Snape?" she said cruelly, cursing herself inwardly.

"Ahh, but it is every bit my business, Bellatrix," Snape murmured, and Hermione blinked. "The Dark Lord trusts me."

"And are you saying he doesn't trust me?" Hermione blasted, trying to stay in character as much as she could.

"No, Bella, no..." Snape surveyed her one last time, and Hermione could feel Harry's eyes on her despite the Invisibility Cloak. "Good day, Madame Lestrange."

Hermione breathed a sigh of relief, and together, Harry, Ron, Griphook, and herself followed the goblin to Bellatrix Lestrange's vault.

/

"HOW are we going to destroy the Horcrux?" Ron exclaimed, as Harry shook his head. "And where is the last one? We have the Goblet of Hufflepuff, but-"

"Hogwarts," Hermione muttered. "We have to go back to where the Founders first spread their roots."

"How are we going to get in there, Hermione? There are Death Eaters around every bloody corner!"

"H—Hogsmeade," Hermione said, shivering as her cold, wet clothing stuck to her clammy skin.

"Well, it's worth a shot," Ron said.

Harry stared at Hermione, "More than worth a shot, Ron; it's what we have to do."

As they Apparated to Hogsmeade, Hermione felt the chill of the air whip around her bare arms. She clung to Harry and Ron, her best, dearest friends...  
She didn't want to lose them.

She couldn't lose them.

A siren went off, and Harry's eyes widened.

"Potter!"

Hermione snapped her head to the sound of the voice.

"Go—GO! The Hogshead!" Harry said hurriedly, and the three rushed to the inn.

"Mr. Harry Potter," a man said, and Hermione looked up; he bore a striking resemblance to Dumbledore. Hermione looked back at Harry; it must be-

"You're Aberforth. Dumbledore's brother," Harry pronounced, and as they talked amongst themselves, Hermione found herself straying farther by the portrait of a girl, and the table in front of it. Her eyes grew like saucers as she saw a copy of the Daily Prophet laying on the table.

She glanced sideways at her friends, and then back at the front page to see Severus' visage striding to and fro on the newspaper. It was a familiar picture, one she had seen before, but with one difference-

There was a red X over his face.

"What's this?" Hermione asked innocently, pointing at the paper.

"Ah, that, that—is none of your concern-"

"But it is...

Harry shook his head slowly, as Ron frowned in confusion.

"...just curious, I guess," Hermione finished. Aberforth chuckled darkly.

"Just as curious as Dolores Umbridge, I'd wager," he said. "This is war, girl!"

Hermione's heart constricted as she gazed at the picture, the red ink following where Severus' face turned.

"We have to get into Hogwarts, Aberforth," Harry said.

"Why on God's green Earth-" he turned to the portrait, whom Hermione now recognized as Ariana, his sister, and said, "You know what to do."

Ariana vanished into the distance, and after a few moments, there was a knock on the back of the portrait.

It swung open. Hermione raised her wand, until she saw Neville's face, bloodied and bruised, peek out from behind it.

"Need a ticket on the Hogwart's Express? Hop on!"

"Neville!" Harry exclaimed.

"Follow me," Neville said, and they climbed into the hidden passageway.

/

"Ravenclaw's Diadem is what we need."

"And how the bloody hell are we going to destroy it? " Ron snapped.

"Well...Basilisk fangs can destroy Horcruxes, once we find it, of course..."

"I have a better idea," Hermione interrupted.

"And what's that?" Harry asked, even though, Hermione could tell from his eyes that he knew.

"I retrieve the Sword of Gryffindor."

Ron's jaw suddenly lost it's hinges. "Wh—What?"

"I know where it is," Hermione said firmly. "Let me go get it, and I'll meet you in the Room of Requirement."

"No!"

"Alright," Harry said, his voice booming over Ron's, "Just be careful, 'Mione, okay?"

Hermione drew in a shaking breath. "Always am," she chuckled weakly. She made her way to the door, but Ron's arm drew her back.

"Hermione, what are you doing? Snape has the Sword, you can't possibly think you can overpower him-"

"Let go of me, Ronald," Hermione hissed. "I have to do this." She wrenched her arm away from his grasp, and raced down the corridor to the Headmaster's office.  
When she had arrived at Severus' door, she whispered the password as softly as she could.

The door didn't budge.

"Damn," Hermione muttered to herself, hearing footsteps coming closer down the hallway. "Snape. Snape!"

The footsteps neared. "Severus!" she called out, and the door swung open.

"Her-"

"Let me in!" she gasped, "someone's coming!"

Severus let her in and closed the door. "What are you doing here? I meant for you to be safe-"

"None of us are safe until the Dark Lord is dead," Hermione said, and Severus' dark eyes glinted. "I need the Sword."

"Ah, I see," Severus murmured, stepping closer to Hermione, so close that her breath seemed to leave her. "You didn't come here to see me."

"I—I have to-"

"Yes?" he whispered, his mouth brushing up against her, his lips caressing the shell of her ear, his hot breath wafting over the side of her face.

"I just need the Sword."

Suddenly, Severus stepped away, and Hermione's chest heaved. "I cannot give it to you."

Suddenly, a spark lighted in Hermione's head. Two could play at this wonderful-horrible game.

"Severus," she muttered, glancing down his body, and then back up to his bright, shining night eyes. "Please do this for me."

"Do what?" he said softly, his eager eyes following her every move as she came closer to him.

"Just-"

A step closer,

"give me-"

body's brushing, hands touching, breaths mingling, heart beats racing—and Severus swooped down to cup her face, staring into her eyes deeply. Their lips met in a kiss, and Hermione moaned into his open mouth as he plundered her ruthlessly.

"Give you what, now?" Severus purred, ripping the shirt from her chest, and encasing one of her rosy nipples in wet warmth. Hermione trembled and quaked around him as if a tornado were whipping through her body.

He gently bit down, and pulled slightly on her as Hermione grasped a handful of oily hair between her clenched fists. "Oh-oh-"

Severus' hand snaked down her body to cup her through her jeans, and she bucked up to meet him...feeling the heat of his hand through the thick fabric, and he moved, he pressed down slightly, moving his hand slowly, and Hermione ached with the need to feel that sweet, wondrous rush once more.

So soon—oh, so soon—she could feel it building in her pit of her belly, even the ends of her hair were quivering with anticipation—pleasepleaseplease

She hadn't realized that she had said it out loud until Severus smirked, and unbuckled his trousers. Hermione's hands groped blindly to find him hard and dripping, her hand slipping through coarse hair to settle on his hardness. She could feel him jerk against her at the slightest touch. As he moved his hand to and fro, applying more and more pressure to her, she caressed him, feeling the hot, hard flesh slide against her hand.

"Yes," Severus growled, gazing down at Hermione as his fingers finally crept down her jeans to touch bare, real flesh-

Hermione choked on her moans as he flicked the little peak between his fingers, pulling and pinching and caressing, and her head moved from side to side on the stone floor. She couldn't think—she could barely breath, it was so much, too much...

Suddenly, the motions of Severus' hand ceased, and Hermione let out a little moan of disappointment.

He plunged into her, and Hermione shrieked against his neck, feeling tendons and muscles tense as he thrust, feeling slick—hot—fast-more-more

She could taste it, as she placed her lips on his throat, and tasted the salty sheen that pearled down his flesh.

She could smell it, the musk of sex rising as they both neared the edge.

She could see it, a bright sprinkling of stars behind her eyes as she closed them...

And she could feel it, yes! She felt it rise through her body like a tsunami, and she clutched the anchor that she felt underneath her fingertips...felt muscles ripple as she held on, and on-

and it hit her suddenly, even though she knew it was nigh, and she could make no noise, only tremble as the unbearably sweet pleasure coated her insides, rushed through her veins like a drug that she would never get enough of.

Severus moaned as he felt her climax, and Hermione surmised that Snape's sound of pleasure was certainly the most beautiful noise on the face of the Earth. She closed her eyes and smiled, as she felt his thrusts become more frenzied, and less controlled.

He spilled himself inside of her, and Hermione embraced him as he groaned and trembled.

He pulled out of her slowly, and Hermione sighed, spreading herself upon the cold stone floor. Severus turned on his side, and Hermione was quick to catch the smile that spread in his eyes and stretched his thin lips.

"I don't want you to ever let me go," Hermione whispered, and Severus murmured,

"Why would I? You are the one keeping me from drowning."

Hermione's eyes widened. Severus cleared his throat.

"Now, what is this silly business about a Sword?"

/  
Lumos,Nox  
/

"About the Sword, Har-I need it-I can't really tell you why-"

"You don't trust me."

It was stated simply, in a dead tone, but Hermione could taste the bitterness on his tongue.

"Please, Severus," Hermione said softly.

Severus sighed and rubbed his brow. "I don't have it. It vanished again."

"Vanished? That means Harry-" The Sword had to appear to Harry, this was-

No, no, this was bad. They didn't know the exact location of Godric's Sword now. There was no telling that Harry would get the Sword in time to destroy the Horcruxes.

Hermione inhaled a labored sigh. Severus bent down slightly, and ran his thumb down her lower lip. She looked up at him, all dewy eyelashes and trembling lips.

/

Severus bent forward to kiss Hermione once more, to feel her warmth again over his cold flesh. Such beauty was wasted on him, he thought. An ugly, darkened man with a stormy soul...what could she possibly want with him? A future was something he couldn't give her.

His days as a triple agent were numbered.

There was so much Hermione didn't know about him, and yet she put all of her trust into his outstretched palm. He didn't understand how something so delicate, so young and intelligent could possibly want Severus Snape.

A loud crash echoed through the corridor, and Severus snapped his head from Hermione.

"Wait here," he said, his voice low yet stern.

He rushed into the corridor, away from Hermione and her warmth.

"Hello, Severus," Lucius said, yet his voice was blank and devoid of emotion. "Our Lord wishes to see you."

"I have some business to finish, Lucius," and Lucius' grey eyes were downcast.

"I came to warn you, Severus."

"I know," Severus said. "Thank you."

/

Hermione snuck out of the office. No one was in the corridor, and she needed that basilisk fang to destroy the Horcruxes, if the Sword was nowhere to be found.

She met Ron and Harry in the Gryffindor Common Room, which was completely vacant.

"Snape. He's talking to the students in the Great Hall," Harry said.

Hermione blinked. "What-"

"We have to go."

"But the Death Eaters-" Ron started.

"There's already a war starting," Harry snapped. "Let's finish it once and for all."

Hermione grabbed Harry's arm as Ron started out the door. "You know he isn't a villian," Hermione hissed. "Don't do this, Harry."

"They need to know he killed-"

Harry sighed. "-killed Dumbledore."

"You don't understand! Harry, please!"

"So he's really gotten under your skin, huh?" Harry seethed, as Hermione felt a storm brewing in her heart. "Look, 'Mione, I have to stop him. He's a Death Eater. I know you fancy hum but-"

"Fancy him? That's what you'd call it, eh? It's deeper than that, Harry. You have no idea what...how I feel about him. Please, let's just find the Horcruxes."

There was a bang that echoed from the Great Hall, all the way up to the Gryffindor Common Room.

"You guys comin'?" Ron asked nervously, "I think something bad's about to happen."

Harry gave once last glance to Hermione.

"Yeah, we are coming."

Hermione felt the salt sting of tears beginning to form in the corners of her eyes.

/

Harry had appeared just in the nick of time, and Severus dueled McGonagall, but Hermione noticed all the little subtle hints-how he knocked out the Death Eaters with a simple flick of his wand, instead of hurting Minerva.

And-

"COWARD!" Minerva cried, as Severus flew out the window of the Great Hall. Hermione could only watch with a mixture of fear and awe-she never knew he could fly without the aid of a broom.

"Harry Potter."

That horrible, oily voice like a thousand hissing snakes echoed throughout the Great Hall.

"Bring me Harry Potter, or watch your friends die, one by one. Bring the Mudblood with you. I want her to seeeee."

No.

NO.

SeverusSeverusSeverus

"Hermione! It's okay! Hermione!"

She hadn't realized that she had screamed his name out in the open. The students and faculty were staring at her, but she could care less.

She had Severus to save.

"Hermione! We can't-"

"We have to go or he'll kill Severus-he'll kill them all, oh god, please, no-"

She couldn't lose her friends.

She couldn't lose this war.

And she wouldn't lose Severus. Not like this, and not now, not ever.

**Author's Note:**

> TO BE CONTINUED


End file.
